Accidental Death
by AzureSynergy
Summary: He wore black jeans a striped shirt and black Ugg boots. His long hair was tied back with a dark ribbon. "You're right," he said, "it was murder, but it was not a crime." Confusion dripped like a leaky faucet, spilling more and more of its icy fluid onto the soil of unanswered queries..."Even shadows have secrets, so let's indulge in the madness."
1. Prologue

Prologue

He wore black jeans a striped shirt and black Ugg boots. His long hair was tied back with a dark ribbon. "You're right," he said, "it was murder, but it was not a crime." Confusion dripped like a leaky faucet, spilling more and more of its icy fluid onto the soil of unanswered queries.

"What would you like your dying words to be?" The second asked. The first smiled sorely. "The scar I bear was there for a long time. Many things have happened since I got it, but its changed me. In which way its changed me, you can decide. All I know is that, that scar is the reason why I killed him." The rope lowered and tightened around his neck.

In the distance a train rolled on its tracks. The sound of trains always reminded him of that day. It was the day he would much rather forget, but forgetting was much harder than one can believe. He used to love the sound of rain against a window, he loved the smell of rain in the dirt and he loved the taste of great satisfaction when he pleased his father. He also used to love his friends and above all his family.

Not after what he discovered. That was dead to him now. All thanks to that bloody scar in his bloodied hand. Going back a couple of years would be best, but that would never happen. Gallows Manor was now literally Gallows Manor. Not only did they chop people's heads off in the court yard, but they also preferred hanging. It saved bullets and time. Nowadays time was the most important thing one could posses. In those days all he had was time.

He remembered the time when he was so angry he couldn't even speak. He remembered his talent for killing and how much he liked it. He remembered how he was able to describe his childhood in three words: It was shitty. And he remembered the love he had for the one person that meant the world to him. That person was the only one able to save him from the madness.

He thought he would go through with it- until he heard the voice of the one he loved. What that person said was the hardest thing he had ever heard in his entire existence. Yet... now he was to die at the hands of that person and it must be equally hard to his loved one as it was to him. How could either of them even consider killing the other? It was unthinkable...

He was about to be hung by the noose and his friend, that couldn't be classified as his friend, would be the executioner. He closed his eyes and smelled the wind. It licked his nose and invited him to play along. _'Soon, my friend, I would be alongside you and drift through existence. Then we can play for all eternity it the land of the lost.' _

It seemed like everybody in the court yard held their breath as the prosecutor read his crimes. All he had done since that day was perfectly summed up onto one paper. How absolutely degrading! He had worked and he had fought for his rank and they violated it and made it sound filthy!

Maybe it was. That was probably the reason he was here...no that _is_ why he's here. He has to pay for his sins and death is the best way possible. Some people were simply sent to jail for life, but what remained of the bars could not possibly be able to contain prisoners anymore. Not at all.

Nostalgia crawled along- hand in hand with a smile. He remembered that day. It was possibly the best day of his life even though he hadn't thought so at the time. Blowing up the jail was exciting and fun! That was moot now.

Most people would spend their childhood going to the beach, throwing dirt clods around or bragging about useless accomplishments. Normal people wouldn't be standing with a noose wrapped around their neck listening to all the crimes they have committed. Regular people would've run away when they saw a stranger standing in an alley.

Oh no- not him! He had to go and attempt friendship and the cost of his life. He had to go and sell his soul and be dragged down to a level so low that ground looked down upon him. Because he wanted to get revenge on the one who only had what's best in mind for him. Funny how a person can realize these things when it's too late.

Funny how someone can throw their entire life away with a simple handshake and an irremovable scar. Laughter wasn't really connected to the word funny at this moment, irony was its companion instead. Pure horrific irony.

The executioner tightened his grip around the lever. They met eyes; both silently saying their goodbye's. Never would they see each other again- and that was what gave the man heartache. Not even his death could affect him as much as now, simply the thought of never seeing the one he loved ever again caused a single tear to leave his eyes. That was the first tear he had shed in years.

Their eyes met. The mask covering his face was stony and revealed no emotion as he pulled the lever...

... and all went black.

"_Great is the art of beginning, but greater is the art of ending."_

_-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

¤CM¤


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"I do not deny evil, nor do I believe that any human is completely free of malice. Everything must be in balance. As long as evil and good maintain an equilibrium in this world there is no problem. Perfect balance is the key to everything."

It isn't the first time. Not at all. He had had children before- one to be exact. Yet his first son hadn't come out as he had hoped. Not at all. How was he supposed to know that his first son would become a drug dealer of the highest ranks? Asura brought the death to Death city. The drug-leader torments the streets and fills it with crime and near constant gun-fights. His variety of illegal supplements supplies the people of this once safe town with nightmares and madness.

It took him years to capture his son and imprison him. It took him even longer to get the city safe again. Lord Death had promised himself that he would never again have a child- 'it would be best for the world' he had told himself. Yet now, after the imprisonment of his (hopefully) only son, the Shinigami sat with a little problem... He didn't know how this had happened. He didn't know why it happened and he certainly didn't ponder of how it came to be true. But despite his unwillingness to have another child, he was granted with another, tawnier one.

His eyes were a gold more profane than the shine of the blood grinning moon and hair a darker black then the inky emptiness of the fearful night. This small reaper definitely looked the part of a killer. And the Grim reaper was fearful of the day this boy was older. The child could not, by any means necessary, turn out like his older brother. Actually this accidentally born child should nay know of Asura's existence. It would be for the best. So when the Shinigami lifted the pale boy from the ground he vowed to discipline this child. This, second accidental son, will not follow in the slumps of his brother- not at all.

"Death the Kid, you are meant for things far greater than that of drugs, death and slander. No, you would make a difference. You would be a law enforcer and you would banish evil from this world. You would be the savoir of the new millennium and you will protect the people of the world. You are a good Kid and you will be raised in a good world. You would grow up without the knowledge of ever having a sibling and you would grow up shielded from the wrong throes of this universe until the right time, only then would you know what true balance is. Only then would you know the true value of a human life. Only then would you find a mortal soul as precious as your own. And only then would you be able to dethrone the Madness."

_Fifteen years. Fifteen fucking years had I been stuck in that rotting sack of a cell. I had forgotten what the sun looked liked. It looks like a murdering maniac who would kill at the first thought. It's absolutely perfect! Now I can take my revenge on the person who put me in that dump, and the best way to do that is to rebuild my kingdom and take what is precious to _**him**_._

_So, I'll start at the head, because without the brain nothing can function. Not to mention it's the favourite target when aiming for the dead. My father doesn't exactly count as the living. He doesn't even deserve living. I'll kill him and reign ruler of this town. I'll return to my thrown and be the new shinigami that people fear. Fear is power and they'll learn that pretty quickly._

342. There were 342 steps to the top of the DWMA. He counted every single one of them. Why did it have to be such an asymmetrical number? Surely his father could fix it... or something. All his life he had believed his father was the best and he could do anything- why would this be any different? For a person as powerful as the grim reaper, making the steps to the entrance of his school symmetrical should be easier that eradicating a witch.

Its bothering him, he can't stop thinking about it! He wanted to yell at the person who designed these steps! Why make the institute of death weapons and Meisters so aesthetically pleasing and then mess it all up with an esoteric number such as 342? His golden eyes rested on the design of the school. Just in time too. If he had to count those steps one more time he was sure to keel over and barf up blood.

The building brought pride to his chest. His father had made this institute to fight off evil and keep crime in its place. So it could be compared to cops... only cooler and more badass... and more competent. On the second thought, no, you couldn't compare it to the police- they were so much better that the incompetent idiots who run around with guns.

People were already pooling into the entrance- class would be starting soon. Comparing the DWMA to a school also did it no justice. Yes, they had tests on paper and teachers, but learning math and history wasn't on the agenda. Stuff as boring as that belonged in a normal school and they didn't have to wear uniforms. Uniforms that went by the code: "If it's not ugly, it's not school."

Well... there were some students who decided to wear uniforms of sorts... like Maka Albarn. She was a girl with sandy blond hair and an IQ that would put Tony Stark to shame. But brains and beauty were never besties and where she had brains her boobs lacked in. That was exactly where she got the nickname "Tiny Tits" from her best friend: Soul Eater Evans. The boy was the exact opposite of his girl friend and not more needed to be said.

Death the Kid liked them for their differences. So when he stepped up next to them he was greeted with smiles and he smiled in return- ignoring the asymmetrical nature of his companions. "Hey, Kid, was sup? Where are Liz and Patty? Don't you usually show up _late_ with them?" Soul asked looking bored, hands in his pockets and hair as unruly as it always is. He was wearing his usual favourite outfit- yellow jacket and red jeans. The girl had a book in her hand and was looking at the young reaper intently, also wanting an answer.

Kid looked at them both in turn as he answered in his bland tone. "Father has sent them as a pair on an extra-credit mission to help their focus along. Liz keeps freaking out at the mention of ghosts and Patty... well, Patty needs to focus more."

"Then why weren't you sent along as well, Kid, I mean- you do get distracted with symmetry every time you fight." Maka questioned in that tone of voice only she could pull off: it wasn't soft and placating nor was it mean and insulting. "I had wanted to know the same thing, but Dad only told me I needed to stay here and focus on my studies."

"Yeah, I never see you finishing with a test- so you must suck, I wonder if you can fail and redo your year-" Next thing the red-eyed boy knew he was staring up at the weird shaped clouds overhead and a throbbing pain in his head. Maka held her book in her hand and glared weapons down at him. "Soul, you idiot, Kid may be even smarter that I! He just can't finish because he is so obsessed with writing his name symmetrically..." And this was where Kid blocked them out again. He hated useless fighting.

So while they fought over nonsense he stepped pass them and went for the entrance. There was a reason why he was early today. He wanted to speak with his father. There was an unrest that settled over him early that morning; bright and early, while the sun was still crazy and full of energy. Something was wrong and he could feel it on the white stripes in his hair.

The halls were busy and full of eager first year's. The younger students were always eager to fight and ignored their studies. When kid had first joined the academy his interests were slightly different. While all the other students loved kicking butt and blowing stuff up he was locked away in his room with only books to rid him of his gloom. Since he could remember his father had preferred him as a studying type of child, always hating it when the young boy fought. So when a brave (or stupid) first year stopped him in the hall and told him what he thought of his hair and the stupid stripes in it, Kid knew exactly what to do.

"If I cared about someone's opinion I would go to CWMA: commenting weapons and Meister's academy, not DWMA, now get the hell away." The properly dressed boy stepped to the side, hands clasped behind his back. The other boy, nonplussed, interfered with the young reaper's road again. "I don't know who you think you are, but no one talks to me like that." A fist was thrown towards the pale boy's face. He ducked and dodged- rolling to a stop left of the attacker.

Enraged, another fatty fist came his way. Kid caught it. His hand stung slightly as the impact caused colour to come to his hand in heated fury. He didn't like fighting, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to protect himself. Being beaten by a first year would be a blow to his pride... and to the honour of his father... as would it be if he beat the crud out of an injudicious first year.

Kid stood up, the other male's fist still clenched in his hand, and leaned in close to the boy's ear. "Beating you to a pile of gloop is not what I want on the second day of school. I'm sure that you're doing this to impress your friends, so I won't humiliate you in front of them. When I let go, you can either drop the fight or drop your dignity levels to an even lower bar. You chose. Either way I win." His voice was low and sombre; ensuring the atmosphere of death was set.

Obviously Kid didn't know what the boy would decide, but he was ready for any of his ultimatum's outcome. Should the boy prove Kid right and be the fool he is by choosing to continue fighting the reaper would simply put the male on his ass and make him feel like an ass. If, in the unlikely event Kid was wrong and the boy would just walk away, that would be exactly what the young shinigami would do- walk away.

His hand loosened and the other pried his fist free. They stared each other in the eye. Black and gold glared. Tantalising quiet filled the halls as every pair of eyes was fixed on the teen and child. Every student, it seemed, was staring at the duo, waiting in climactic anxiousness for the other's response to whatever the black haired- teen had whispered... Fight... or fli- _tactical retreat_.

"Looks like your son can handle himself in a situation of fire." Smoke drifted up into the blue cloudy roof of the death room. The mirror had a perfect view of the two quarrelling students; small ripples disturbing the screen every now and again. The squelch of a squeaky wheel irritated the living dead out of Lord Death, but he ignored it in favour of Professor Stein's remark.

Setting up fights wasn't necessary, per se, but in this case it _was_ necessary.

"Yes, it is true that while I sent Patricia and Elizabeth out I needed to actually get Kid alone. I need to assess how he would handle a situation on his _own_. Violence isn't the way I want him to chose... you can quite say that this is actually Kid's test." Stein took another drag from the slim stick of nicotine. He looked at the mirror. "Mmmm, I suppose if you believe this is the best way to decide your child's future, then you as the Kid's father would make the best decision." The man said this in a way that sounded as if he knew this would end badly, but not admitting it straight off.

Subtly saying someone is stupid is Stein's skill. Among other things...

"I believe that the best way to ensure my son's future to not be an evil, murdering drug-dealer who is obsessed with fear, is to teach his right from wrong. Fighting purely to satisfy your own needs is the wrong way to do things. Here we fight to protect others, not our dignity."

Turning the screw on the side of his head Stein mulled what the shinigami had said over. Reasoning in this test was absolutely ludicrous. How was not beating up a first year going to keep Kid from becoming evil? How was any of this justified enough to set the fate of a fifteen year old boy in stone? How could one measly little fight make or break a boy's future?

"I could've simply conducted an experiment on Kid's brain to see if there are any deficiencies in his head. We both know that Asura was consumed with madness. At that moment I was talking about the mental illness, madness, not the drug Madness. Not to mention that I sense no evil wavelength in his soul. Kiddo is as innocent as..." Stein lifted the empty packet of cigarettes, and crushed the small stick under his shoe. Small strings of poisonous pleasure drifted lazily into the air. "ash on the ground, it cannot cause any harm- there is no fire, after all."

Behind the mask of happiness Lord Death grimaced and looked down. He wanted to believe that Kid was a good kid, he really did! But he knew what exactly masks can hide. Masks hide the scary things no one wants to see. They hide the truth and the ugliness behind a facade of good-naturalness and amiable smiles.

But what happens when the parade of masks ends? What would happen if the act would be dropped and burned and left to smoulder into ash? The smoke will give rise to the truth and the walls will be dropped- revealing the true nature of a person. And the elder reaper _feared _what his second son's true ability would be.

What is his son hiding behind his stoic mask of blandness? What was being hidden behind the obsession of symmetry? He knew that there was a reason why his son wore an excessive amount of black attire. Some might take it as a colour that shinigami's wear in general.

Which is not true.

The turning of Stein's screw pulled him from his reverie and set his eyes back on the mirror. He had to know which choice his son would make. He had to know what his son's true nature was. He had to analyse the situation carefully and deduct ,from what he could see, if his son was good or bad.

For only a father could tell if their children were meant for greatness. He had made that mistake once before and he wasn't about to make it again. With this child, he wouldn't make the same mistakes. He would make no mistakes. This son would be the perfect boy.

The result: not good. The pathetic loser had continued with his assault and in the end the boy landed in the dispensary with a bloodied nose, broken wrist end twisted ankles. He wasn't sure, but he suspected that the dude even had a few cracked ribs.

It would've gone differently were Patty and Liz present. Those two always seemed to mellow him out. This time he didn't have that comfort and look where he ended up. Death the Kid stood before his father with his head held high. There were many things in this world that Lord Death hated. Evil was one of them. And if he suspected his son of being evil... he would slightly be less liking of him, but he is Kid's father and no parent can ever hate their children... right?

"Father I assure you it was purely out of defence. I would never engage in a fight if only for fun." Somehow even he didn't believe that. Stein stared at the younger boy. Intently looking into his soul. The little red depressed blob was vibrating and shaking wildly.

The professor knew what this meant, but was impressed of the mask that Kid put up. Most people weren't even able to school their feelings on the outside, but when some were- like in Kid's case- their soul always gave them away. Stein was even certain that the Grim reaper could see this, but chose to ignore it.

All three occupants in the room knew what was coming.

"Kiddo, I am afraid I cannot allow you to continue your studies here at the DWMA. You are being pulled from the courses this afternoon."

The devastation that followed said words was catastrophic, like a rock being thrown into a puddle, causing waves of sorrow. Kid had never been dismissed from something before... and it felt terrible. He had just started making friends and now he wasn't allowed to even interact with them again, because of a single fight. Surely his father did this for his own good. So instead of having a tantrum he simply nodded silently and strode out of the Death room with practiced eloquence.

Never once before had anyone seen Death the kid as silent as now, he strode through the halls like a ghost. His steps were soft and his expression was stone. No one saw how his hands got whiter behind his back; no one saw how he clenched his jaw and no one saw how his eyes darkened when he stepped out onto the asymmetrical stairs outside. 342. Three hundred- and- fucking forty two.

The sun laughed at him, its mocking smile petulant and wild taunted him from high above. The grinning ball of gas was just as evil as the feelings that each human contained. There was evil and good in the world and they needed to contain equilibrium. One must never over power the other. If he became evil all of a sudden the balance may be tipped and the scales may shatter.

He was the only thing keeping the world in balance.

Night fell faster than he had wanted to. Going to Gallows Manor wasn't an option. Liz and Patty would be back by now and telling them about what had happened didn't appeal to him. Choosing instead to walk aimlessly in the streets, hands in his pockets, his golden orbs skimmed the skyscrapers and the bricked sidewalk.

At least the city was relatively clean. Litter and garbage was only seen here and there in the mount of a darkened alley, almost everyone avoided alleys. That was the best thing a person could have ever done. Kid ducked into it and sat beside a dumpster- pulling his knees up to his chest. He wasn't going t cry he told himself, he was merely taking a breather.

Shadows crawled up the murky walls and ate at the young Reaper's ankles. The moon was unusually silent tonight. Usually it was grinning and laughing, but now it seemed the glowing ball had settled into silence.

Being afraid was an understatement. Kid was terrified of what was going to happen next. He couldn't go back and face his friends with the truth of what had happened. He couldn't just be dishonest either- it went against his morals. Death the kid drew up his hands and stared at his hands. They were perfectly symmetrical. He had do keep the world symmetrical... this filthy alley wasn't symmetrical! It was absolutely disgusting!

Kid stood up and set to work. Symmetry always took his mind off things... even to the extremes. All he needed was to think of something else! He needed to think orderly he needed to think precise and he needed to think of something better than reality.

Laughter bubbled into his ears. And his efforts were sent to shambles when a hunched over figure looking like skin and bones kicked over the garbage bins he was aligning. Filth spilt onto the brick paved ground. The cans clanged off and sent Metallica and eeriness into the suddenly stale air. "Even shadows have secrets, so let's indulge in the madness."

"Who are you?" Kid's tone took on the defensive. He had never seen this person in the city before, and his figure didn't exactly look like something you could forget just by passing by. The man was wrapped up in several layers of clothing and a heavy scarf concealed any trademarks about his face... not that that was necessary- this man was a walking freak show on his own.

If he were able to see beyond that onion-like layer of clothes he would even bet that the man had pale skin. On second thought- no, (Kid took a step back) he could smell the man from here- he would not want to find out what was hidden beneath all that attire.

"I am the who when you ask 'who's there' and I am the fear in fearsome."

"Yeah, and you're the pang in poo and the piss in poor. Take a step back, your rotting up my air." Kid took out a neatly folded handkerchief and covered his mouth and nose. The folds were visible from where the material had been folded in an obvious triangular tip. The stranger invaded his space once more and pressed his face into his personal zone. Inspection was cut short when Kid struck the man in the nose.

A wince slipped passed the younger male's mask- wrong hand. His right hand was still sore from where he had socked that student earlier that day... he had forgotten about the pain in his moment of melodramatic misery. He wasn't about to sulk like a school girl who had lost a boyfriend. Many thing were known to him and is strengths and weaknesses were one of them- sulking wasn't one of them... he had merely experienced a moment of relapse into the realm of denial.

To get over this he needed the support of his friends. Kid's eyes widened. He had just hit a random hobo. Oh no. Invading his personal space wasn't a plausible reason to his a homeless hungry... a dagger-like blade appeared from nowhere... homicidal FREAK! Kid swrode that weapon came out of the dude's mouth!

Which is obviously a delusional assumption. But having a weapon pointed at him was not at all delusional and he wasn't about to get cut up by a hobo! "Liz, Patty, change into your... Damnit!" A silent slice sent blood seeping out of a scrape on the boy's cheek. Above his bruised knuckles and broken self-image, he was returning home with a cut as well.

"Consider yourself lucky kid; I didn't want to kill you just then." A weird look passed over his face and he froze. Kid froze as well. The both stood still as statues, exchanging looks. Death the kid had absolutely no idea why he was standing still. This man was obviously dangerous, and close combat with a melee weapon was dangerous... even for him. If that man was able to get past his stone walls of defence, then he had skills.

His milk had just been creamed.

"You look familiar. Like someone I hate and want to kill."

"It happens often. Hobo's usually want to kidnap Kid's and kill them in the middle of night under the maniacal moon. Or is that just me?" This seemed to amuse the stranger. "You should be filled with fear. You're about to be killed by someone you don't even know. I can hear your heart beating. Your skin is simply sweating fear and I love it." The golden cased weapon winked at Kid and sent him a gleaming smile.

"But I'm afraid I'm lost and I could use your help..." Something told the man, judging by the look in the child's face, that he wasn't about to receive any form of assistance from this child. Which annoyed him beyond belief. He had at least hoped for some fun before killing someone. And to be honest... he really was lost. First thing on his list was to cover himself up in as many sizes of clothes he could steal from murdered people as possible... _then _he would kill his father.

"What makes you think I'll help you?"

"Why do people always ask such predictable questions?"

"Because it's the most obvious answer any sane person would give a psychopathic murderer."

"Touché, but I do not consider myself a psychopathic-"

"You wouldn't if you were."

"-Murderer, I consider myself the person who rids the world of all the drips who suck and take all the fun away for party-seekers." Death The Kid looked at the man... he was completely and utterly mental... to even consider... "So... you're a hobo clown who murders people with a pointy stick and then... stinks up the place?" Kid stated a rhetorical question with a lace of sarcasm dripping delicious oozes of tantalising insults.

The man made an unimpressed noise and sheathed his weapon. The leather holster was agonisingly near his head- resting on his shoulder- concealed by one of the layers of material he wore.

"You're either brave or stupid to antagonise me in such a way. You are a very petulant child, what is your name?" Kid looked on in disinterest. Why answer this complete stranger? Sure he had disarmed himself and removed the threat, but that meant as much to him as a single accomplishment to overachievers.

To be truly assured of his safety he needed something more... something permanent.

"If I tell you my name, by means of society, we are no longer strangers. But being strangers or not has no importance to me if you are still inclined to bring harm upon me. There is certain etiquette one must follow when approaching a social matter, such as not murdering the person you know.

"Many things can be put in place to protect me from your blade, but only one method has any real significance." The young reaper paused for dramatic effect. The filth on the floor began to rot and drifted in a vile form to both their uncaring nostrils. The asymmetrical outlet of the alley bothered him distantly, but he ignored it for the best of his survival.

"We do the '_Invariabilem pignus', _that way I could be assured that no bodily harm befalls me." At those words, so solemnly spoken, the second man's eyes stretched like saucers. Now who was the one filled with fear?

"That is forbidden and you know it! It is dark magic banned from practice because of its unpredictability and un-ethicalness. I never thought that a 'perfect' boy such as you would even think of something like that. It enthrals me."

Those words were all that need be spoken to confirm the other's decision. "If you go back on this you know of the consequences and you accept them." It wasn't a question as much as a statement, the man smiled slyly nonetheless.

Both extended hands. The clasped and skin met skin. Pale was contrasted by nothing at all. This wasn't what Kid had expected. He had expected that the man be tan with calloused hands and dirtied fingers. Once again he was wrong. Searing pain burned like a chilly on the tongue against their gripped hands.

Mentally they both knew what was happening.

The heat increased only to be dulled by flaming cold at unpredictable intervals. There was no sound, there were no overdramatic flashes of light and there was certainly no overacted screams of agony. They accepted what happened and when they pulled away they knew that what they had decided was final.

The skull-shaped scar on the inside of their palms could attest to their youthful decision. By making this decision Kid had assured himself safety against any of the other man's actions. But by making this decision both their lives were put into immediate dramatic danger.

"Asura." – "Death the Kid."

Claiming control over the opposite's soul was a dangerous game that has no winners...

Death the Kid lay in his bed, contemplating the day's happenings. He got expelled from school by his father after dismissing a dead weight first-year meister. His weapon partners were out on extra credit courses and he made a deal with his soul as a betting piece.

He had covered up the skull-scar with a long-sleeved shirt. Since arriving home he had felt a buzz of power coursing through his veins, only to be written off as adrenaline from the excitement earlier that night. Kid had decided to tell Liz and Patty about his expulsion- they would find out anyway due to rumours- and he wanted to spare the theatricals if they were to find out from anyone but him.

Bed sheets were crumpled underneath his pallid frame and pillows as pale as pearls caressed black hair in a warm embrace. Were it not for the girl's late arrival back home later this evening he would have dosed off hours ago. The matter of being dismissed from the DWMA could have waited for the morning, but the burden of it compressed its titanium weight down onto his chest and restricted his breathing room.

Getting this off his chest was what was best for him. He heard the front door open. The comfortingly annoying trill of Patty's cheerful voice greeted his sensitive ears. Even from such a large distance between him and his front door he could still hear each word clearly spoken. Liz was scolding her younger sister for being so loud and told her that she would wake Kid. At that he looked over at his analog-clock.

It was already morning. He had no idea where they went, but if their journey took that long he supposed they were pretty far away. Usually travelling wasn't an issue and didn't take up much of his time- travelling per skateboard was pretty fast... not that, that would be needed anymore.

He got up. He was going to tell them and the telling time was nigh.

"Liz, Patty!" He called through his heavy wooden door. The noise downstairs silenced. He had to chuckle at that. They probably thought they had disturbed his slumber. How considerate of them. Before he could even reach his door it burst open and an overly friendly girl squealed and tackled him to the ground. A mop of blond hair was seen before all the wind was knocked clean out of him.

"I got you! You're defeated!" A slim tanned finger pointed at him. The youngest sister stood over him with a triumphant smile. Patty laughed. "I beat Kid! I beat Kid!" she sing-sung. Liz entered the room with a weary look in her eyes. "Patty get of him, don't you think you've tortured enough souls already?" Surprisingly the younger girl did as she was told. "You're right, sis, at least Kid didn't try to eat you like those creepy animal-thingies! But you showed them!"

Liz paled considerably at the mention of their mission. "Please don't talk about that, Patty." She drawled tiredly. Observing the looks of both the two girls' physique his resolved wavered. They looked so undeniably exhausted! Maybe holding it off until the morning would be best?

"Why are you still on the floor, Kid?" Two pairs of eyes met his; questioning eyes greeting troubled golden hues. "Kid, what's wrong?" Curse Liz for being so perceptive! She was always deductive, especially when it concerned those who she cared about. "Nothing that concerns you at the time being. Go to sleep, we can address the situation in the morning after you've rested. Let me assist you in bringing your bags to your bedrooms-"

He got up off the floor, only to be blocked from exiting. "What do you mean by 'situation'? What happened?" Kid cursed himself for his word choice. He should've revised his noun usage to something less drastic sounding. But that was exactly what it was- drastic! This _couldn't_ wait 'til the morning. Despite what he wanted, despite what they would think, he had to do it. He had to come clean.

"Liz, Patty," He addressed them both seriously. Liz despised this look. She knew it was much worse than his usual barrage of lectures about the tips of triangulated toilet paper or symmetrical eyebrows when he became serious like this. Her meister wasn't supposed to be as serious as this... it was unnatural.

, "Because of my reckless behaviour at school today, I was expelled from the DWMA."

**Rules of Invariabilem pignus:**

_1) The one who breaks the bond of soul by killing and/or inflicting physical pain upon the counterpart will meet the fate of Death._

_2) A bond can only be broken when one of the contributing parties, if not both, die of natural causes. _

_3) '_Invariabilem pignus'_ is a bonding of souls by giving rights of your existence to the opposite contributing party. Your soul is no longer yours and henceforth belongs to the second bonder._

_4) The received scar is the mark of the bond. If any harm is to come to the scar by breaking or cutting of the flesh the counterpart will die and by constitution of the rules so will the person bearing the broken scar. _

_5) A bond could last for eternity or for seconds. It depends on if you value your life as much as your counterpart's. _

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	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Chains rattled and cards were shuffled. The room was dark. It was damp and filled with people. Smoke drifted up and rested against the roof like a depressed cloud with lung cancer. Laughter and speaking accumulated most of the silence.

All of their clothes were hanging from them and most didn't even bother to hide their weapons. Scars were worn like trophies and tattoos were almost obligatory. Piercings were optional, as well as bathing and proper hygiene... it seemed.

How a person could survive this stench no one knew. Somehow these groups of people had made it here is one piece; which was a new record because the last gathering they had someone was stabbed to death and cut up in small pieces. No one even knew- and it would have stayed that way had their leader not received the chopped up corpse a week later _'A tribute to my master.'_ It had read on the decapitated head of the victim.

No, they hadn't used a sharpie- the words were carved into the flesh with a knife.

Little had to be said, but Asura was pleased to know that his followers weren't a bunch of thumb sucking babies... So tonight was definitely an evening to celebrate... under the circumstances. No one was missing and no one had entered with a bloodied shirt yet so everyone took that as a good sign.

The hollows in the walls provided a perfect place to lie down after you've had a generous sniff of Madness; and high up in the ceiling a crimson chandelier lit the commotion perfectly and dunked the men and women in a perfect ray of red.

Music was playing, but hardly anyone paid attention to it. They were either too drunk or too high to notice. This was Asura's kingdom. He didn't give a damn about these imbeciles, but they were needed- and he knew it. A leader is only as good as his followers... even if they were a bunch of foolish baboons that had the IQ of a piece of bark.

He was sitting at the high stakes table playing poker with his most trusted of followers. He was winning, of course, who wouldn't if they had an ace up their sleeves? Asura was pretty sure they knew he was cheating, but chose to say nothing. Saying nothing was a smart choice- he would rip out their tongues and feed it to his dogs if they dare mention anything.

Oh how he loved his dogs. They were black, vicious and filled with black blood. Not to mention the little animals from Hell had red eyes (just like their master) along with rows of sharp teeth: a spitting image of their only reason for survival (Asura). Said animals were currently padding amongst the vile people who worked for him, snapping and baring, white teeth bathed in slobber to keep them in line and to keep a healthy dose of fear high enough for their master to enjoy.

Asura blinked and wove his eyes through the crowd of people. He put his cards down face-up on the table. A Royal flush. Every other player said nothing, but their body languages suggested that they were damn unhappy- their facial expressions revealed nothing.

"I win again, it seems."

He tapped his fingers upon the crisp cards, his index finger tapping the king repeatedly. Open fingered gloves that were as black as his hounds covered his hands. This was _his_ kingdom. More poker chips were added to his rapidly growing pile.

"It get's tedious to win all the time. I want to see some **action**." He spoke to no one in particular. They hated when he did that. Asura was now looking at his pets- one of which was frightening the soul of a random loser.

"Bring me that one." They all looked in the direction of his eyes. The young man was sitting atop a table legs pulled to his chest and the most freighted expression anyone had ever seen adorned his face.

"Nyctophobia, bring him over!" The dog growled even louder. The young man flinched. "Shit!"Asura grinned and noticed the signs; shaking, sweating, swearing and shitting up his pants because of fear. Yup- this man has had a lovely dose of their most infamous drug: Madness.

All the dogs in the area showed up and circled the table- the music changed into a more foreshadowing nature- sensing the aura change; everyone in the room grew quiet and stared at what was happening. The animals growl and snap. The space on the table grew smaller for the man to cower on.

The leader of the beasts jumped up and bit the man, sinking its teeth into his skinny leg. They young brunette yelled. Everyone cringed at the sound. Asura's smile merely grew. Nyctophobia draged him over and dumped the man at her master's feet. Her master looked pleased, she was certain that she would receive a treat tonight so she went her merry way unobtrusively.

"Chain him." Asura commanded. The man's eyes widened. A woman dressed in a black dress that looked like something a widow would wear stepped up, swaying her hips. The man grinned and handed her the chains. The victim cowered in fear: what he saw was completely different...

He grabbed at his brown hair and buried his face into the floor- shying away from the scary people who looked like demons. Gerecho ran his hand through his hair when the woman took the chains from him. His piercings winked at her in a bloody bathed seduction. She didn't fall for his bullshit disguised with grins.

"Arachnophobia, make sure his wrists _bleed_." Asura commanded, interest growing like a weed. Shackles clanked, tightening to the verge of breaking the man's bony wrists. He screamed- they all knew it wasn't from the pain...

Madness gives you power and makes you feel free from all your troubles, but when you fall and the effects take place of the pleasure you're in a world of Hell.

Madness was one of the worst drugs ever to be sold on the streets, not only because it's super addictive, but also because it can cause chaos of the epic kind. Asura stood up and waved his lackeys away. He strode over to the man and ripped his head up- gloved fingers gripping his hair painfully.

What the man saw sent him into hysterics. He squirmed and screamed; trying desperately to get away from his vision... the chains held him in place along with the vice grip the gang leader had on his head. "Now, now- it's not that bad, I'm simply going to end you- nothing to be worried about."

Those words silenced the man.

Asura took his knife and tortured the man until he begged for death. Blood dripped down his arm and formed a pool on the concrete. Those who watched wore no expression. They only watched. They stared as the man was drained of blood. They looked as their leader cut flesh from bone and fed it to his 'pets'.

The man was torn and broken like a rag doll that was played with too much. He was on the brink of death, yet Asura still wouldn't allow him any salvation. Asura grinned. "On second thought, I won't kill you, but rather prolong your suffering..."

The leader of the gang looked at Gericho. "Take him down to the prison and lock him up. I want to put him in the games..." At those words the whole hall burst into cheers and shouts of excitement. The silence was broken easily. The games were their favourite form of entertainment...

And when they had enough _volunteers_ to participate there would be nothing _but_ entertainment... "It will be my pleasure." The blond man freed the bloodied body and forcefully, painfully, dragged him out the doors and down the forbidden hall...

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Gun shots fired throughout the house and yelling was imminent. Loud bangs and thumps as object hit the ground, people yelling, consumed all thought. The curtains were drawn and the room was filled with black. Lights flickered and lit the room now and then.

Then abruptly stopped.

Kid threw the remote to the table and stared at the lifeless screen. The trash people would air on television these days was laughable! Who would want to watch a reality show about a fat girl wearing farmer clothes who runs around eating stuff, or in this case a show about someone shooting the living shit out of some random stranger?

Sure he shot strangers, but only because those strangers were already dead! Nobody would care if he killed a couple of zombies if they tried to attack him... or were those collage students... Who knows- they both look and act the same...No Wonder His Father Expelled Him!

Kid sighed and rubbed his face. Watching this was only upsetting him. He needed something more stimulating than endless hours of nonsense. Yet he didn't know what to do- symmetry was always an outlet for him since he obsessed over it, but seeing as he had already checked the paintings, the toilet paper and the candles... and done it again... the thing he would do next was go to school...

From which he was currently expelled... because he was useless trash and a cow because he beat up a first year simply to protect his pride. UUURG! No matter what he does it always revolves back to the subject of him being kicked out of the institute his father constructed.

Then there was that one other matter...

Which he dare not even think about. Liz and Patty were already upset as it is. If they found out about what he had done he was sure he would get more that supportive hugs and a slap upside the head.

He can't help but think that the scar on his hand was burning. It felt dirty and vile against his skin and he didn't even know why he had accepted the deal! Maybe it was because he was upset and wanted to do what was wrong in order to anger his father further... or was it because he felt a pulling at his conscience that told him that this man was dangerous and the only way to survive was to seal his safety?

Whatever the reason he was now stuck with this shred of sin in the soul of his hand. He dreaded when the girls would come home. They had looked extremely unhappy. He never wanted to see that look on their faces- never. One of the things he absolutely despised in the world (besides Asymmetry) was upsetting the ones that love him.

School would almost come out and he still hadn't done anything productive today. And by productive he meant getting off his lazy ass and actually doing something. There was one thing that he didn't want to do and that was becoming a burden... but he had absolutely no idea what to do! Usually he would go out and make the world a better place, but without his favourite friends what was the point?

Sighing he stood up and went over to the door, fingers absently tracing the pattern in his hand. Kid opened the door. Sunbeams glared at him and blinded him temporarily.

Minutes passed. No one came walking up the road. Kid glanced over at the clock. It was already three thirty. Liz and Patty should already have been home by now- the walk from school doesn't take that long. They told him that they would have a serious chat once they came back from school. They were obviously too tired to handle it so late at night... right?

Moments passed and there was no one still. Were they so disappointed in him that they simply decided to leave him to wallow in his sorrow and die from a futureless tomorrow? No... that can't be true- they were good people. They wouldn't do that to him! They wouldn't abandon him! More time passed. The street was as empty as aa anorexic person's stomach.

The clock showed a mocking fifteen past four. Which, logically, meant that he had been ditched. Serves him right. Kid frowned and became stoic. He was dead on the inside. Everyone disowns him. No one sees him as the strong willed person who would do anything to guard the good.

All the community sees now is a useless cow- a person who can't even do the simplest of things! Well if that was how people saw him-

The door slammed shut and Death the Kid's futures darkened. He'll show them what it is to be truly bad. Judging him would be the worst mistake they had ever made. And that was what he would prove to them! His mirror called for him and a little makeover was in order... not to mention he had to contact a certain friend he had acquainted earlier.

He can show them bad!

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"Yeah, guys, he looks terrible- usually first thing in the morning he would check if everything in the mansion is symmetrical, but today all he did was plop down in front of the TV. and flip through channels. To be honest I wouldn't be surprised if he is still at it."

Liz walked, concerned frown lingering on her face. Patty walked at the back looking up at the sky- not seeming to be bothered by anything. Soul frowned. "That's not cool! How can Lord Death do this to him! We spoke to him that morning and he seemed normal... except for the fact that he wanted to talk to his dad about something..."

"I wonder what he wanted to say, knowing Kid it would probably be important, he doesn't like to disturb Lord Death, even if he isn't busy." The group of friends settled into comfortable silence. All expression that was worn mutually was concern and confusion. "It took longer than usual to get you all together, but if it weren't for Blackstar I'm sure we would've been earlier."

They looked at the boy. He was busy eating some sort of sandwich. "Honestly, Blackstar, you should leave the witch eating to Tshubaki." The blue haired boy merely shrugged, swallowing, "Yeah, but I the great _Blackstar_ am great enough to do more than one thing!"

They all rolled they eyes. Liz stopped- frozen. All eyes fixed on her then glanced in the direction of her eyes. They were fixed on Gallows Manor. Nothing looked off. Nothing except for the door being wide open... okay... something was wrong. Why would the door be open? Kid was very specific about keeping the door closed or robbers could get in and mess up his symmetry.

"Something's wrong!" They all ran out of pure curiosity to the open threshold, finding the home as baron as the Arctic Circle. "Kid? We're home!" When no answer met them Liz panicked and Patty shut up. "Would you guys just chill? He's probably getting a few Z's. You should know how exhausting emotions can be... you are women after all." This earned soul another book to the head.

"Another comment like that and you'll get more than just a Maka-Chop!" Soul rubbed his sore head gingerly and followed the group inside- closing the door behind them. The eldest Thompson sister directed her buddies to the kitchen and discreetly told her sister to go check if Kid was asleep upstairs.

With an unnecessary salute the girl marched past the portraits and paintings and went up the staircase to where sleeping beauty was probably dead by now.

Patty peeked past the pinewood door and spotted a bulk on the bed. The curtains were drawn and a _single_ candle was lit. Patty stomped inside and plopped unceremoniously onto the bed. "I know why you're upset Kid, but you can get over it! You're not weak, if you were weak you would've been evil and you're not evil- evil is bad and bad isn't you." Patty patted the sheets roughly.

"We're all here so you should come downstairs! Big sister was really upset when she saw the door open! She probably thought that someone killed you!" At that she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the entire universe to think of him as being dead. When an answer didn't come Patty frowned and pulled her lips to the side. "Fine, ignore me! I'll get you back later, but you really need to come down- I don't think big sis would like it if you cry and no one saw it."

Her words came out wrong but she was sure that Kid was smart enough to figure out there was no harm in it. Everyone cares for him and his well-being and no one wanted him to be unhappy. That was why they were all gathering- to get a solution to the problem and solve the little dilemma they had.

"I'll come back later then- just get up and come down- everyone wants to see you."

Patty flew up like a butterfly and skipped out of the room. Her child-like nature was comforting. In certain situations Kid was sure her words would have helped, but this was different. He was different and he no longer needed friends. They made him weak- and to survive in his line of work he had to be strong. What was for sure was that he would be the big boss in no time by beating the new one.

That would be his plan from the beginning and he would see it thorough until the end.

So when the door closed he threw open the covers and jumped out of the bed- his booted feet sinking into the lush carpet. The madness had taken over and he was thrilled to let it. Today would be the turning point of his entire life. This was the day he would become his own person and would do whatever he wanted.

The Hell with the consequences. Today he would become what his father had been fighting since the day he was born- criminals. And thanks to his father he was abandoning his friends and going to make new ones. Glory, fame and power are all that existed in Kid's future now. For when there is no light in the path ahead there is only darkness and shadows... and like someone had told him earlier- even shadows have secrets so let's indulge in the madness.

One big secret which dwells around shadows is definitely madness. So let's indulge in it!

But one thing need be done before he can go and meet up with his 'friend'... he needs to get a tattoo- and there was a certain one that he had wanted for a while, but could never get. His father was very... strict. One thing less that he had to worry about - his father's approval. As previously established- he was his own man now.

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'_PoefPastei' _tattoo parlour gives tattoos to people and don't really give a damn about anything, but the money. So when they saw the young shinigami come in they were more than happy to assist the rich son of Lord Death. But the request that he had made sent them frowning and shying.

A tattoo such as that was something that was uncommon. It wasn't everyday that someone asked for stripes being tattooed over your mouth to give it the look of a skull... usually they got demands of a more vulgar kind...

The boy offered to pay them double if they did a good job.

Nothing more needed saying.

It would just be a while until Kid could eat normally again- it hurt like crazy. But what he got out of it was much better. He got a rite of passage into the most prestigious gang in Death City- and protection against the most notorious gang leader to ever set foot on earth.

Asura- Google had more than enough info on him. Yet there were some pieces of information that was left out, but that would be easy to acquire once he got in the leader's good graces- after all- it's not every day you see a son killing his own father.

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"Welcome to your new home, Kid. I am pleased to inform you that you are not to be touched by anyone under the punishment of death. There is one thing I need to tell you, I am the leader of this place and will not hesitate to kill you- even if that means I die in the process. Have a nice stay."

That was as creepy as when the Joker is friendly. Not to mention just as dangerous.

Kid smiled to himself. The place smelled. It was asymmetrical and as awful as a mean parent. Yet it was still better than being in the company of his father. Anything was better than being with his father in the same room. Getting a weapon was better than having an actual person turning into a weapon.

Asura told him it was more exiting to actually load the Chrome handgun than just having weapons that don't have to be reloaded at all. He said that it gave you a sense of danger as the enemies came closer. Fear was what he liked so why wouldn't someone like that say such a thing?

That night when the clock stoke twelve and the moon was at its maddest one of Asura's men came barging into his room and demanded he get up. Dazed and disoriented Kid had pulled on his equipment and heavy black boots- suited for whatever it was what they were going to do. Something akin a jacket hit him in the face and he glared angrily at the culprit.

"What the fuck did you do that for, Jackass?!" Kid was almost tempted to swipe his gun and empty a few caps into that dude's brain. The man took a step forward. "What did you call me, Shorty?" Lightning crackled between their glares and Kid's finger's twitched. His hand hovered over his weapon at his side.

The sleek black holster was practically demanding he open it and fire. He restrained himself. No sense in killing an idiot on his first day. Sure doing that would give him a fear factor, but then everyone would think he was a hot shot and give him a bad time.

Problems were not something he would appreciate- they were something he would like to cause. "What are we doing, why is it necessary to practically get up in the middle of night? And why give me this?" Kid lifted the jacket and inspected it with sunshine eyes.

It was a Mamba colour with hues of white lining the edges and the collar. It looked like something someone would wear to keep warm, but didn't lack style at all. An insignia was stitched into the breast pocket. It looked like a fancy letter M inside a circle... must be the gang's symbol.

"_That's _so no one of our gang shoots you... by accident... and to keep your weapons hidden until the time is right. We're going out- no questions asked. Boss demands it-so shut up and do as he says!" The man pushed Kid on his back, causing him to almost trip and fall onto the ground.

Kid said nothing, only glared. He didn't like being pushed around. Not at all. The man laughed at him. Kid took a deep calming breath and pulled the jacked on- he was right, it does hide all the illegal weapons.

He automatically took a liking to the piece of attire. It was light, yet warm and fit him like a glove- yet he had enough space to manoeuvre in it. Quite effective. Outside it was the darkest black he had ever seen. It was cool, yet not brisk. And there were a total of five people outside- all geared up.

They looked at Kid. He was the youngest and least experienced of them all. "I 'on't know why Boss dumped 'im with 'o team! He's gonna slow 's down! The little freak don't even look tha part 'o a figh'er." Speech therapy was what that man needed, Kid couldn't even understand half of what he said... yet the others found no trouble in understanding him and glared at him. Yes, they had a similar agreement in whatever the man had said.

"Don't know, he just demanded we take care of the runt, he's your responsibility, Shitehawk, make sure he doesn't die. With the way the boss went on about not letting him die he'll kill us if the freak dies... accidentally."

The horribly linguistic man grumbled and glared at the boy. "U fuk up and U be dead b'for I can say- told U so!"

Death the Kid wasn't afraid, he wasn't afraid when he entered the building and he wasn't afraid when every person in it looked at him like hungry monsters. Nor was he scared when one of them pulled a weapon on him. He wasn't horrified when Asura's dogs bit every single piece of meat out of another victim's flesh and nor was he afraid when Asura laughed manically.

Now he was afraid. This man had a deadly look in his eyes that told of many stories and pasts that would put the devil into a corner and cry. Kid nodded enthusiastically in attempt not to anger the man. Pleased was a great word to describe the smile on the man's face.

"A' least I 'on't 'ave pro'lems wit ya'."

Kid smiled- a genuine smile that only had a smidge of madness to it. There was one person who would kill him, but wouldn't do so immediately like the others. Oh joy. "Our objective is simple and easy. We get the supplies on this list. We get every one of them before 4 in the morning." The woman who was apparently the leader glared at him then she continued.

"I don't go along on the run's I only give the orders. You four always handle it on your own- I never get into the line of fire. Here's your ear piece- If you break it you fix it!" She handed him a small earpiece. He put it in. "Don't die!" Kid nodded. And the four were off.

They were four blocks away when the woman's voice spoke to them. "First item on the list- food supplies." Shitehawk grumbled. "No' this 'gain! Ya' kno' wha' happ'ned las' time we got'a stuff!"

"If I cared about every microwavable Burrito that exploded and gave you a burn scar then the missions would never even get done. Now stop complaining loser baby and do what you have to!" After that the noise cut off and the dark was their only companion.

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"Duck!" Another explosion shook the earth and the windows high above vibrated. Rubble was scattered across the tar road and they were just as scattered. The grenade landed opposite their attackers' car-shield and blew it sky high.

Shitehawk gave a shout of triumph. "Blew 'em fuckers in'o next week!" Kid loaded another clip- back pressed against the cool metal of a stranger's Mercedes. Asura was right; it was more fun to reload stuff. Besides, blowing the brains out of a police officer was much more fun than simply subduing your enemies.

"It's almost 4! If we don't get back soon the light would be good enough to see our faces!" Kid called to another car where he knew the others were taking cover. Once the clip was snapped into position he regained his stance and started shooting. The accuracy of his bullets astounded the others. No newbie had ever been such good marksmen.

Another bullet landed its path between a dude's eyes. "Why did the last bloody item on the list have to be the frigin' Gun store! No one's going to run out of ammo soon!"

"Tha's why we worr'ey 'bout who runs out 'O bo'ie's first!" metal crashed into the side of the car and sent the boy's ears ringing. "What are 'Bo'ie's' ?! Do you mean bodies? You need to take speech lessons!" Over the noise of gun fire and shouts of pain Kid could make out the piercingly annoying laughter of the slender man.

Shitehawk was certainly crazy, only a person who _was_ could be able to laugh through this. Kid took a liking to this man. Another shot fired. Kid wondered why the bullet was getting bigger- and then it hit him! He fell back- his shoulders hitting the ground. Shocked he stared wide eyed at his grazed side. Blood leaked lethargically out of the small rip in his jacked and slowly made the attire filthy.

Kid's lips dragged up and resembled something like a dog lifting its hackles. His eyes took on a deranged gleam. One of the police fuckers SHOT him! Hell no! That moment could not be described in any number of words. The lines over Kid's mouth only looked more awe inducing as he fired raping shots and killed the last remaining spews of officers.

The noise died down as the dead bodies hit the floor. The flashing police lights were eerie in the morning dark. Gloom settled onto the group. Shitehawk smiled appraisingly. Maybe training this dude wouldn't be as hard as he had first perceived.

More sirens danced in the distance. "Let's get moving! I'm not in the mood to waste more ammo!" The woman yelled. They grabbed the duffle bags filled with the stuff they've gather during the past hour, most of it being food and guns- others being chemical components and electrical devices...

With an agreeable atmosphere the four of them ran away- leaving a bloodied pavement and broken tar street behind. The maid would just take care of that- no worries. Not at all.

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After dumping all the stuff they had gathered on the giant pile of stuff that _everybody_ had to gather Kid went to his room. It can't be called a room. It looked more like something you would give a prisoner. It tasted like blood and smelled like every body fluid imaginable to man.

The walls were stony and coal like. Unlike kid's taste in both white and black, purely black was really starting to annoy him. He wanted a better colour scheme. He wanted something with more pop and flavour. He wanted red to coat his walls so that he would be able to do more than just _taste_ blood.

He wanted to feel it and live it. And tonight had proved that he LOVED it! He loved the feel of the warm liquid dripping out of his side and he absolutely adored the feeling of it hardening against his skin. Tonight was undeniably entertaining and the adrenaline he had received helped him along even more.

It would even be possible to say that Kid would go on these boring errand runs simply for the thrill of a fight. Forget symmetry... blood was his new obsession.

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"Lord Death?" The Reaper smelled him before he saw him. "Hello Stein! Wasuup, Wasuup?" He turned around, only to be met with the entire faculty of the school. His mask frowned. "Good... morning everybody- is there something the matter?"

"There is, actually," Miss Marie started timidly. "We were all concerned. Today we didn't see Kid in class; we are used to him showing up late- which we completely understand why he is late!" She commented while laughing oddly. "But it wasn't just that." Cut in Sig, seeing as the teacher was taking too long to get to the point. "Kid's friends and weapon partners were also acting off,'

"It cut into my training time! I can't work with depressed kids! So what happened! Is something wrong with that Kid of yours? Should we be worried?" Professor Stein looked at the Grim Reaper pointedly. It was as he predicted. Bad thing were going to happen.

"Nothing to be concerned about. Just some minor difficulties, nothing I can't handle, Kid is a good kid after all."

The mirror to the Death room chose that moment to flash to life. A uniformed soldier stood startled and stared bewildered at the crowded room. "What is it?" Asked the Shinigami. "Sir we have a prisoner escape!" The man informed. His face was pale and it seemed hard for him to breathe.

"Then why haven't you apprehended the criminal yet?" Deeply confused Lord Death stared at the screen frowning. "It's more serious than that sir, when we did a prisoner attendance about half an hour ago there was one cell entirely empty."

"That still doesn't answer my question." Stein blew another cloud of smoke. Everyone in the room stared in anticipation as the soldier regained his breath. "We couldn't send soldiers out to find the prisoner, because it seems the prisoner had escaped earlier the previous day... and most of our troops have been sent out to a disturbance down town.'

"None of them have returned yet and more officers were sent a while ago, but sir... the prisoner who had escaped..." The man seemed almost scared to admit the name of the prisoner. Tension could not even be cut with a meat cleaver at this moment- that's how thick it wallowed in the air.

"I think what the man is trying to say is that the man who escaped from the prison is the same man who caused all that trouble down town. To be honest I could feel the trembling from here. My hypothesis is that the escapee had made use of explosive weapons. Where the person had found them is beyond me, but-" Stein was interrupted by the man giving a bitter laugh. They all looked at him.

He shook his head ruefully. "That news would have been better to hear, professor. Not to mention that it would be much easier to explain..."

Lord Death tipped his head to the side in a display of confusion. It seemed like the man was about to faint. "The man who had escaped the prison is Asura."

¤CM¤


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Kid stood on the hill looking at the empty rail way. The sun was hidden with heavy clouds and spilled a chalk colour onto the bottle green grass. Off in the distance a train's steam billowed into the air and the whistle blew, its wheels started moving slowly. It seemed like the train was stuck in a pit of particularly sticky tar, but after a moment if moved faster until eventually it rolled past him.

He sighed. This morning was exiting, but he wanted _**more**_. Adrenaline wasn't the only thing that would keep him going. He needed revenge and his father would be the one to suffer. It was that old lunatic's fault that he was now one of the members of a gang that sells illegal supplements. He would never use drugs and that he promised to himself. Being addicted to things wasn't what he wanted.

Sitting down he watched as the train grew smaller and smaller as it streamed off into the distance. He could still faintly pick up the steamy whispers of its warmed engine. His hands dug into the dirt and picked the grass free from their soiled confines. Simply murdering his father would be harder than ever if he didn't have any experience.

Someone had to help him train to get better. He had to be strong enough to defeat his father and get his revenge. His father _ruined_ his life, so in return he will destroy his. What better way to get the most effective training than to work his way up the ranks and climb the ladder?

Yes! That was an excellent plan! He would fight every single person in the gang until he was strong enough. Then he would kick Asura's ass and become the leader. Kid saw absolutely no flaw in that plan. Only question is... who would be the best person to start with? Everybody was stronger than him and nobody seemed to want to attack him with the intent to kill.

If one does not train with the intent to kill what would be the point?! He needed someone who doesn't give a damn and would gladly like to kill him despite the risks... like anyone ever would. That was yet another down side to the damn scar. Kid sighed once more and fell back; his head landing softly into the grass. One solid grey wall of cloud met him.

He wouldn't even be able to calm himself down by staring at the clouds! Everything was so frustrating! Why couldn't he just relax and let all his stress flow like any other normal person? Why did he have to be born with a man like _that_ for a father? The man acted like he didn't even want him and that his birth was a mistake... an accident.

It probably was- he was born in the worst of times too. He could remember being told stories of how the entire town was in flames and the only building that still stood was Gallows Manor. It was like that building had immune to the wrath of whoever had destroyed the city. Not a single person would ever want to tell him who destroyed the town he grew up in. He suspected that it had something to do with who his father was that everyone was so tight-lipped.

Once again his father ruined his life. There were so many ways that his father had ruined his life that he couldn't even name them all. Well he had time- so maybe he should make a list. "I'll start with #1: Kept secrets from me, intentionally and indirectly."

It was when the first drop of rain landed between his eyes and the damned dreary clouds finally cried their H2O that Kid realized how long he had been sitting here. He got up- none caring of the grass that stuck to him- and made his way back to the warehouse not too far from here.

He had enough time to spare if he wanted to get a _warm_ shower- it's not like any of them would want to clean themselves all of a sudden- so he didn't have to worry about getting the cold end of the stick. The blood that was still caked against his side irritated him. Going back to the mansion and taking a shower was out of option as well. Despite his unwillingness to see his so called friends that wasn't the only reason he didn't want to go back.

Gallows Manor was his father's house after all.

And seeing his father was the last thing on his mind. At the present moment he was so cross with his father- he was cross with his father when he expelled him. The stomach dropping feeling a person gets can never be forgotten and when he had spoken those words to him it was the most dreadful thing he had ever felt.

He was enraged. He was so darn angry that he couldn't even speak, so the only thing left to do was to leave. He left that room knowing that he would never return. But he didn't leave the school knowing that he would one day be plotting to destroy it and its principle. Yes- annihilating the DWMA was second on his revenge list- right next to. Killing. His. _Father_.

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The doors slammed open and all heads snapped up, Kid stared at the illuminated figure lurking in the door way. And looked back down. He sat at a table- staring at the various different stains and listening to the pointless chatter of others. Death the Kid was quite enjoying himself until the figure barged into the room and addressed everyone present.

"I gots a special message fo' all 'O ya!" Kid recognised his voice and looked up. All movement ceased and the anthill of the assembly hall grew deathly silent. Shitehawk must have a lot of respect if even the scum of this place were to listen to him.

"Someone's gone and told tha ass up on a hill wha' hap'ned ea'lier dis mo'ning. Now we ain't only got tha po-po on 'O asses, we also got tha DWMA to shoot up! So tha pe'son who kills tha most meisters and captu'es them weapons gets a special rewa'd from da Boss!"

Almost everyone in the whole room was gone in less than five minutes- locked and loaded. Kid stared at the mostly empty hall in bewilderment. All people flooded out the double doors- rusing past Shitehawk like he was a rock and they were water flowing by him on either sides but never touching him or even looking him in the eyes.

Whatever a reward from the boss looks like it must be pretty good if they were all going Meister hunting like it was hunting season for the last time on earth. Even Kid was psyched to go and lay a bullet or three thousand between a student's eyes... but some of them were his friends and he didn't want them getting hurt. So partaking in this activity was not on his agenda.

Shitehawk walked up to him. Kid tried not to give him a scowl- he succeeded, because it didn't seem like the man wanted to kill him straight away. "I saw ya' up on tha' hill. Wha' were ya' doin' up the'e ?"

Kid regarded him with a blank look. Could the truth suffice as useful information to get him the help he wanted? It was worth a try. "I was contemplating the possibilities of you training me to become a better fighter." Half a truth is not considered truthful at all, but it wasn't a complete lie.

That caused the man to laugh, a deep rumble that grew from his chest and burst outward. "Ya' wan' me ta' teach ya' how 'o kick someone's ass?" he did not reply, only waited until the man stopped laughing. For such an intimidating person he sure does laugh a lot.

"No can do twiddle stick. I ain't tha pe'son ya should sta't wit', I gonna break ya in half if ya do wan' trainin' from me!" Seriousness laced every word he spoke and Kid had no doubt that they were exactly that. "Who should I train with then?" Shitehawk threw his thumb at a person who sat at a table in the corner, shuffling cards all by his lonesome.

"Tha' aught ta' fit ya' training regimen!" Death the Kid stared. Why didn't he leave with the other lackeys to go Meister hunting as well? Was he too good for that type of thing or was he just scared he'll chip a nail? A girl was what he was!

"Who are you?" Kid asked when he stepped up to the person's table. The shuffling hands stopped mid-shuffle. Hands that looked soft and way too delicate for that of a man. "When you talk to me you will speak with respect or I will rip your tongue out- you got that?" Forget man- a woman was what _she_ was!

A hood covered her face, but braided golden hair flowed down her sides and polished perfection nails clacked onto the table. The cards were abandoned. "What do you want, Kid?" Apparently everyone knew his name, that or they just wanted to let him know that they were old and he was considered a child.

"I want you to help me. I have a small issue and I-"

"No matter what you've heard I am not a paedophile. Take your teenage hormone problems elsewhere, I'm a very busy woman and have no time to indulge you in your perverted fantasies." Death the Kid blushed. Did she just suggest that he had... problems downtown? Why would anyone think of him in such a way?

"No! I mean I want you to train me and teach me how to be a better fighter, because Shitehawk said-"

"So it was Shitehawk who spread all those rumours of me invading a young girl's body?! I'll kill him!" The cards landed on the table with a clenched fist atop it. The bang echoed off the stone walls and drifted into the corridors beyond the lower levels. It may look like a warehouse on the outside, but underneath the first floor of crated expanse was a stretch of tunnels and mazes and rooms and... other stuff.

Certainly one of those rooms was built to be resistant to the force of this woman's fist. She looked like she could throw a punch and kill a man with one hit. The table shook under the force of her hand and looked ready to break. "I don't know about that, but- listen... all I want to know is if you would help me learn to be a better fighter?"

"Never."

"Look at it this way. I'm on Shitehawk's team. If you train me you get to beat me up until I'm a better fighter. So you would be inadvertently affecting the efficiency of Shitehawk's task team if you were to assist me." This lead to the woman thinking for a while. She lifted her head and a shockingly young face with snake-golden eyes met his.

Kid shrunk back some. She looked scary and creepy. Her mouth looked like something that can spit a few venomous words and poison your soul with their hurtful bite. "You got yourself a deal. Meet with me in the training room in an hour. I need to have a little talk with a certain someone."

Kid stepped back as she pushed her chair out and slunk like a snake out of the stone room. And he wondered if he had made another mistake in making a deal with a creepy person who was covered in shadows. Too late now to worry much about it.

Death the Kid was the only remaining person in the cold, cold room. Most people were out killing for shits and giggles... actually they were killing for a prize- one which he knew nothing of- others were simply idling around and looking for excitement. He would be starting training with a very, VERY intimidating person in less than an hour.

The question now was... what would he do to fill the time? Kid leaned onto the table with his elbows. The wooden structure wobbled and buckled under his weight. Then broke. Kid toppled onto the ground and landed between wood and splinters. Great, beaten by a piece of furniture.

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Kid got his ass kicked pretty well. The saying 'you hit like a girl' would forevermore be written as a compliment and not an insult. His ears still rung from when she had put him flat on his behind and hit him in the head. A bump was sure to form sooner or later.

Bruises covered his pale skin and nothing of his usual milky complexion could be made out. He didn't want to go to the dining hall. Getting laughed at for getting beat up by a female wasn't on his wish list for Santa.

So when his beaten bruised and broken body bequeathed his bed sheets as his own he was out like a candle in the wind- dragged into the land of nightmares. Nightmares which foretold of his father's disapproving scowl and the disappointed looks on his used-to-be friends' faces.

Waking up in a cold sweat was an understatement. He shook awake sopping wet with his own body water seeping into his clothes. He had a night-freight for the first time since he was eight. Now that he thought about it, since his departure from his only home he had experienced many things for the first time in a _long_ time.

He hated it and he wanted it to go away. Why wouldn't his father just leave him alone?! He even had to haunt him in his dreams! Kid growled angrily and rubbed his tired eyes. This was so wrong! He had to do something about it and right now. If he was going to lose sleep because of his stupid sense of what's right and what's wrong he needed to get rid of his subconscious.

'_How to get rid of my conscience?_' Thought Kid... "I let go of reality and let the madness consume me." He had never slept more peacefully before in his entire existence. That night Death the Kid dreamt of blood and violence and how he took control of the world and reigned as the ruler.

Petty and narcissistic, yes, but aren't all dreams a wish the heart makes?

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Medusa took another sip of her cup, peeking over the brim as she saw her 'prodigy' walk into the hall. She was sat down at her favourite table, wearing her favourite sinister cloak drinking her favourite disgusting juice.

Soon. The boy would be broken soon enough. She could already see it in his posture. He carried himself differently and the way he walked spoke of indifference. Medusa could tell that the boy had already given himself up to the madness inside. All that was left was that little barrier that all people have. They may not know it, but everyone has that small piece of resistance lodged deep inside that keeps us from truly being great.

A single thing had to be done to get rid of that little piece of resistance, and the circumstances couldn't be better. Everything was in place and all she had to do was give a little _shove_ in the right direction.

When the boy sat down she stood up. When he took a bite of food she took a bite at chance. One of the people she knew owed her from last time and she wasn't one to hold back on cashing in those favours to its full extent. This was all to her advantage, in the complete end, she trained him- he owed her and the cycle is continued ad infinitum...

Shitehawk saw Medusa leave the hall and cast a worried glance at Kid. He looked physically like a bruised apple, but mentally he acted like there was nothing wrong... and that was what worried him the most. Once you go beyond the point of no return... well... then there was no return...

"Eat some'ng, Kid, ya' look like shi'." Grudgingly the boy complied by taking a bite of an apple. He chewed slowly and gingerly; if the bruise on his cheekbone was any indication of his discomfort... "She 'eally do A num'er on ya', ain' she?" Death the Kid gave him a dry look then continued eating slowly and carefully.

The meal continued on in silence until Shitehawk spoke again. "The's gonna be anotha' hit tonig't. I O'nt think ya' fit fo' tha' run. Ya' stay 'ere wit' Arachnophobia an' help wit' tha' techno stuff."

He wasn't able to get a word in. The huge man stood up and left abruptly. Apparently he didn't want an argument and Kid wasn't even sure he would be able to put up a pretty decent one either. He was too physically harmed and exhausted to care. Of course he cared if he would be able to shoot someone or blow stuff up, but considering the circumstances he just didn't want to be debatable at all.

So he dumped the apple core in the middle of the table and stood up, pushing his chair in and walking to the operations room where the darkly dressed widower would be waiting for him. Technology wasn't really his forte. (He brought up). And he wouldn't really be much of a help as much as a nuisance who gets in the way. But at least he would be able to learn a little bit.

Knowledge was power.

Kid took a left and walked down a darkening staircase. He checked his gloves. Yup, they were still perfectly covering the incriminating scar. No use in letting anybody know that he had been a dumb ass who made the dumbest mistake in the world... like he cared.

After the staircase passed finding the room was harder than anticipated and he had to stop and ask directions. An angry looking midget man with a top hat and a weird nose directed him in the right direction and after that he found the room easily.

The night went by easily and without a hitch. All they had to get was three or so items... mostly cleaning supplies and metal casings... who knew what that was for. The cleaning supplies were understandable for there was blood everywhere and the place did smell like a dog house. The metal casings he had no idea what they were for. So after the group got the last item and were almost back home he turned to the woman.

Her lilac eyes were turned on the screen and stared at it almost lazily; she'd been playing solitaire since before he had entered the room. The headphones and mike was on the table switched off since their job was done and she ignored him like he was some sort of spider in the corner of the room that no one really notices until they're actually looking for it.

"What are the metal casings for? I understand why we would need mops and bleach, but what's up with the metal?" The mouse clicked on and she moved another card from the deck to one of the slowly growing rows. Her cheek rested in her palm and her elbow was asleep on the wooden table.

The bitch! She was ignoring him on purpose! "Are you going to answer me or do I have to shoot it out of you?"

"This coming from the person who was beaten up by my little sister."

That stuck a potato in his tail pipe. What did she just say? Was Medusa her _little_ sister?! They looked nothing alike! "Says the person who can't even win a game of solitaire! You could've finished the game two hours ago if you only used that damned joker and put it next to the king!"

"It's probably for the dogs." – "Wha?" "The metal casings; they're probably to finish off the cage where the animals would be held. Wouldn't it be absolutely messy if they get out and murder you in the middle of your precious sleep? It would be a pity if you die-"

"I didn't know you cared."

"-After all, who would entertain my little sister if her favourite punching bag was used as a chew toy for a bunch of slobbering mutts? Then I'd have to sit with her." Their argument was cut short. "Leave, I have useless games to play. Solitaire is more of a challenge than beating you in a verbal war." She spoke to herself the last part and proceeded with clicking the mouse and moving virtual cards around.

"Stupid witch." Kid muttered and closed the door behind him shutting her out and shutting the world out. If the world was going to be as cruel as her then he never wanted to live in it. He wanted to rule it. That was why he put up with the pain. That was why he was on his way to the training room where Medusa was bound to be. That is why he was going to push himself to the edge for the only purpose to get better.

That was why he sold his soul.

His father held the highest ranking position in the city. First the city and then the world. Prioritising is a good thing, that way you can't feel overwhelmed. Set small goals and work yourself up. Start with the fun things first... like getting beat up to beat his father up. Then work up to the things that are less fun... like killing everyone who can take revenge... like his friends.

The training room was empty... strange. For one: it was the training room and Medusa was always in here... was she out as well, hunting the people whom he fought alongside once upon a time, with the other thugs who lived here?

That was the only logical reason for her and everyone's absence. No wonder the halls had been empty. If he hadn't have known where this room was he would've had one hell of a time looking for this place. Who knew that the underground lair resting under a regular sized warehouse was so frisking _huge_?!

But that was to be expected; it wasn't like someone would hand him a map just because he joined the gang. How would people know who were spies and who were not? They seemed to accept him pretty easily... though that was probably because Asura and he had met before...

So what in the world was he supposed to do now? There wasn't really a lot to do around here if all the poker people were out killing. Kid supposed he could play with himself... simply thinking about it sounded wrong and perverted...

The boy sighed- he was bored almost to the brink of madness. Why did he have to have so much time on his hands? He wanted to go out and blow something to smithereens or at least shed some blood... even if it was just a little.

Having nothing better to do the boy went to his room. On the way there he saw that woman from his team approach him. Her lilac eyes drilled into his with a type of shock that Kid didn't even know she could portray. Something was wrong. This woman wasn't supposed to have emotions... little alone show them.

Kid was entirely befuddled. Wasn't he supposed to stay out of her sight? Now she came looking for _him_ with a jolt in her eyes. What was up with that? If there was one thing that the illegal Kid knew, was that this woman was frightened and he needed to know by what. Before he could ask though...

"Shitehawk's been captured by the police. They were caught robbing a jewellery store and they took him to the prison. They're going to execute him. Not that I care. The only reason this is bothering me is because they confiscated all the items and if our team comes back empty handed Asura will be the death of all."

His eyes grew to the size of saucers and his throat went dry. Shitehawk... captured... execute... This can't be happening! Sure he only knew the man for about a week now, but he felt a connection between the two of them. The man looked out for him and protected him... even if it didn't look or feel like it. He was like a brother to him.

And since he grew up as an only child he never had the experience to know what it felt like to have a sibling. Shitehawk was the closest thing he had. "We've got to save him!"

"Sure, little guy, let's go into a high-tech prison and break out a person who means nothing to anyone. Listen, the only _logical_ option we have is to go out and get all the supplies- we still have an hour and if we split up the job can be done quicker- it will be easier as well."

"We can't just leave him to die! He's a member of our team and we have to go save him!" Kid shouted. There was no way in heaven or underworld that they were going to abandon his 'brother'. The woman regarded him with a disgusted snarl. "My sister has got a long way to go with you before... whatever- I'm not going to be involved in this garbage, do what you want."

She left looking bored and uninterested. Kid looked even more disgusted. How can a person just abandon someone like that? Well not him- he was going to save Shitehawk before the execution and he already had a plan formulating in his brain.

Now... how does one go about breaking into the supply room?

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Death the Kid would be hated by everyone. This he knew when he ran out of the warehouse with more than a war's supply of ammo and a couple of grenades hooked to a utility-belt. He knew that breaking into the prison would not be easy and he also knew that the only way he was getting in there was if he blew the whole damn place's walls off.

Not much needed saying, but Kid was excited... like a girl going to the prom... He had no plan and the whole rescue mission would blow up in his face because of this. He was dressed for the dance of doom and destruction, but he had no date to accompany him and assist him with the improvisation mission.

Hell, he was even sure that if he wasn't successful that Asura would be even more pissed off. Wasting a Fu**load of ammunition on a single soul and shooting a Sh**load of soldiers was a sure-fire way of putting the limelight on their gang.

And even now as he crouched behind a prison wall panting like a thirsty dog he knew that he wouldn't escape the consequences lightly if he came back empty handed. Heck, if he came back empty handed he should just stay the damn away.

Another thing he was thankful for was internet. Thanks to the wonderful tech and a certain someone's hacking skills he was able to breach the prison's firewall and uncover the date of Shitehawk's sentence... it was 75h 15min 8sec from... now.

Kid checked his watch and checked it again. He had more than enough time to get in and get out. The only question he had was what he was going to do with the excess time? He wasn't going back to training with Medusa that was for sure- he still had bruises and was sore. Maybe he could go to his world on the top of that hill and lose himself in the serene tranquillity of the trains.

Kid closed his eyes and listened. The shouting had ceased- so that meant that the guards had stopped looking for him. Good... good. Tripping the alarm wasn't one of his best moves and almost getting caught was a dumb move. So when he regained his breath and checked his gun's chamber- glad it was still fully loaded- the blurring of the prison alarm invaded his quiet musings.

Maybe he should just have blown up a wall instead of crawling through a ventilation shaft (being abnormally skinny had its ups). What was he supposed to do with two grenades now? "Here! We haven't checked this way yet! Search every corner, he couldn't have gotten far!"

Sh*t! Boots clicked on the floor and at least three pairs headed his way. In a matter of seconds at least three guards would have bullets popped between their skull caps. And then his position would be made common knowledge and a whole prison of guards would be dropping down on him like dead bodies in a graveyard.

Kid takes deep breathes and pulls back on the hammer and releases it with a CLICK! The steps silence. "Did you hear that?" A voice whispers from around the corner. Now or never. All goes to hell. Kid slid from behind cover a shoots. "Taking fire! Find cover!" Yells the leader, only to end up with a bulleted mouth. Kid ducks behind a laundry basket as bullets scrape along the wall and flood the metal bin.

The clank-clank-kaClunk of bullets against metal distracts Kid from his initial fear. This was an isolated hall. No one would be able to hear the shots or the screams from here. The laundry room made too much noise to just ignore therefore the prison made soundproof walls especially just to keep the white noise of washing machines at bay.

Kid was safe.

"Requesting backup, two men down- one seriously injured. We're cornered down in the-"

Kid shoots and hits the target. The hand radio clatters to the ground as the woman yells in agony and grips her bleeding hand. She reaches for her weapon and fires a few rounds. One hits home and burrows into Kid's shoulder- the wound bleeding profusely. Gritting his teeth the youth refuses to acknowledge the woman's marksmanship.

The teenager presses his hand to the wound and crazed eyes glow brightly. Now he's having FUN! Death the Kid laughs maniacally- surprising the one remaining soldier. "Rosemarie, I've heard about you. You're the main guard in charge of criminal safety. No wonder your aim is as remarkable as mine. Unfortunately for you, you're comrades are down for the count. Luckily I didn't shoot to kill. Sure one of them won't be able to speak for... ever again, but they'll live... if they don't die of blood loss..."

At this Kid laughs again. Rosemarie cradles her bloody hand close to her breast. Her eyes shoot over to the radio. It was a little out of cover from where she hides behind a washing machine... She peeks through the crevice between the washer and the wall. A small patch of black hair pokes out from behind the laundry bin.

Detergent slowly drips onto the white floor. The shelves are shot to shila and the softener leaks onto the groaning form of her comrade. Things don't look good on her side and she has no idea what this psycho plans. Something in his voice sounds familiar, but she can't put her finger on it... probably because her finger was twitching on her trigger- just waiting for a reason.

"Who are you and why are you doing this?" She shouts over her shoulder- not taking her sight off the small communicator. Rosemarie shuffles slightly closer and stops. She waits to see if he had notices her moving. At first the male doesn't answer, the only sound to be heard is leaking and dropping fluids. Along with the occasional heavy breathing... wait... had she hit him?

Rosemarie looked again... yes, red was slowly crawling like an infant from behind his cover. At least she had a few says in this battle. "My name is... of no importance... as far as I'm concerned... you're concerned I have no name and my identity is as good as useless." Silence drags on for no longer than one second before the remote crackles into life and a distressed voice drones through in static and electric scrubs.

"Come in squad three. Distress call interpreted. Repeat repeat, distress call interpreted. Confirm location, over." Rosemarie takes action. She bolts from behind the machine and heads for the handheld. She didn't get far.

Kid stands up and fires at the device. It explodes and plastic, wires and chips scatter across the ground. Smoke drifts up from the singed remains. The woman grabs at her hand which bleeds and throbs painfully. Her weapon was reached for, but kicked away by black clad boots.

She dare not look up. Fear cradled her heart like a bird with a broken wing, its snake-like grip squeezing the hope out of her. She is out in the open. No weapon and no backup in sight. Along with a psychopathic killer standing over her with a gun probably pointed at her head.

"Black isn't your colour." She whispers. Kid stares at her with crazed eyes. His shoulder hurt like an ironing brand presses down on his naked skin. Keeping composure was more important to him than his desire to kill; cocking his head Kid raises a brow. "Oh? Well since the woman with a gun to her head wants to so eagerly give me fashion advice... please indulge me."

Rosemarie fears for what would happen... but looks up nonetheless. What she saw shocked her... Nothing in her training could ever have trained her for this! Psycho was Death the Kid... Lord Death's son!

"No! How could this be happening! We were all so sure that you would turn out differently! Maybe we should have listened to your father. He always knew better and he was right all this time no matter how much we doubted him. He knew that you took after _him_!"

"What does this have to do with my fashion?"

"Screw the fashion! What happened that you turned out like this? What happened?!"

"Do I know you?" Kid asked with a smile and a slight turn of his head. He didn't know her but she clearly knew him. "And does anything you say make sense?" Kid was toying with her and she knew it.

"You are Death the Kid and your colour is brown. These boots aren't working it; not any more. When a person changes personalities they must also change colours- it's supposed to be done subconsciously, but your mind is clearly messed up right now. Colours represent a person's personality and at this moment brown would work wonders."

This raised another brow? Rosemarie continued... "Not because it represents you, the colour, but because it is at such a contrast to whom you are now. You changed so much I didn't recognise you until I saw your lines of Sanzu. You are the absolute opposite of who you were and therefore the colour brown represents you well enough!"

Kid closed his mouth and all playfulness drowned along with the strangled bird. The snake got tired of squeezing and squeezing. There was no more fun and if the bird is of no use... "You can then happily enjoy the opposite of life." He said grimly. The tattoos over his lips made him look mad and not to mention accentuated his words. They were the last words the woman would hear...

The other men were left there in the room... groaning and bleeding. And along with their rapidly draining life essence their life source slowly ebbed away into murky blackness of fear's cage where the skeletons of the other victims lay scattered on the ground of crumbled hope.

Fear is powerful

And

Fear is victorious.

¤CM¤


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

A week. That was how much time had passed since Death the Kid went missing. His friends were worried. His father was... worried. And the faculty were worried. The authorities couldn't care less. They had more important things at hand. For one: criminal activities have risen since Asura's escape and more than half of their men and women were shot dead or injured and in the infirmary.

Despite what their priorities were they were urged to seek the missing meister and bring him back to safety before something bad could happen to him. Lord Death was reserved in this mission. He loved his son, but he had his suspicions about what had happened to him. He had turned. Personalities change under great stress... why would Kid be an exception? It was in his blood all along, all the evil inside him needed was a spark to activate.

All Kid needed was a reason.

"How do you propose we solve this dilemma? People are being murdered and meisters are going missing. Not just your son, but other's as well. We have to take immediate action."

"Well then the solution is obvious: a curfew for everyone and a drastic increase in patrol. Do not think that I am not aware of our current situation, Stein, it is merely that I have been preoccupied with my son's disappearance."

The ever-present cigarette was missing and was rather replaced with a mouth twisting scowl. Usually the professor would remain stoic and look at things as rationally as his crazy mind would allow, but enough was enough. Meisters were going missing and all the man cared about was his son whom he never really cared about.

Stein shook his head and left. He didn't want anything to do with this man's family life and this situation was getting dangerously close to what he was trying to avoid. The doors to the room burst open and Sid came running in. He was panting and doubled over- gripping his knees. Both men stared at the zombie. His blue tinted skin looked slightly pale and his eyes were wide.

"Alarms to the prison went off. This wouldn't have concern us, but it does, and I'm not the type of man to keep secrets from you. A guard reported seeing your son enter the jail earlier this evening, but he couldn't be sure- he's changed. At least that's what the man says." Sid stood upright and looked at the passive faces of both the scientist and the reaper.

"But his suspicions were confirmed when a radio leakage identified him as Death the Kid by our own Rosemarie Porter. No further news was received, but I have cautioned all the guards. Should we send out a team to extract your son before he can cause anymore damage?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation and Lord Death spoke seriously. Such behaviour would have been strange, but Stein knew better. "Send at least a dozen of our best three star meisters. He is my son and it seems he isn't in his right mind. We need to be as cautious as possible."

Stein nodded and left. The reaper looked like he needed a moment alone to gather his thoughts. When the professor reached the hall outside his classroom he saw Kid's friends idly strolling towards their next class. He didn't have a class to teach the previous period so he had enough time to let a group of meisters know of their orders before returning...

The smaller meisters looked incredibly depressed. Even Blackstar's highly energetic mood was dampened by the mysterious disappearance of their beloved friend. They seemed drained and tired and Stein was immediately curious.

Before they could enter the room he stepped in front of the group and addressed them. "What's with the down expressions?"

Lethargic eyes glanced at him. The globes that were once so full of life looked glazed over and tired... oh so _tired_. Maka yawned and covered it in time with her hand before replying, mid yawn, "Nothing, professor, we were just up late last night looking for-"

"Her school books." Soul interrupted quickly; elbowing the girl in the ribs and giving her a sideward glance. Soul sheepishly rubbed at his neck and laughed nervously. "Yeah, you know how Maka just loves to study and be the know-it-all of the entire class."

That earned him a glare from the blond girl, but they all seemed to go with the obvious lie. Stein didn't bother to question them further when the bell rang. He sighed and simply entered the class; taking obvious note of the slumping of tense shoulders.

What shocked Stein the most was that his class was nearly completely empty. There were pairs of students here and there, but most of the tables were abandoned and completely empty. Odd. He checked his roster and noted with utter confusion that he _did_ have a class to teach the third period. Just as well, he shrugged internally, he didn't have a lesson planned out for today- he was too preoccupied with other matters to bother go hunting for another animal to dissect.

"Open your books to page three hundred and one. Read through it and then discuss it with a partner- if you have questions don't come and ask me." Ox was the only person to put up his hand. His face spoke of studious anger. "Yes, Ox?"

"There isn't a page numbered 301 in our handbooks, the limit is 276, were you talking about another book? If you were I feel the need to inform you that we have not received any knowledge of having to get a new book at the administrative office."

A tic formed on the professor's head, but he pushed his irritation aside. "Very well... you have homework for tomorrow- I want you to write me a 5000 word essay on the history of our language. Because it seems that when I told you not to ask questions you seemed to have not understood my command as though I have spoken in a foreign tongue that you don't understand. Congratulations, Ox."

The student's smug look faltered and the remaining people in the class snickered. "As for the rest of you,' he said, "You pass today's lesson; on how to follow instructions without disobeying orders. For the rest of the period you may keep yourselves busy with drawing... or counting the molecules in your saliva for all I care, just don't bother me."

Simultaneously the small group of friends lay their heads down softly against their desks and closed their eyes. Stein sympathised with them... he's sure they were all terribly tired after all the book searching they've done the previous night...

Soul was first to speak once he saw the professor's gaze drift from their group. "Great going ,Maka, you almost ruined our cover!"

The girl merely grunted.

"Don't do _that_ to me! We all know that if they find out what we've been doing that they would put an end to it immediately. We can't stop looking for Kid, guys! He's our friend and we all make sacrifices to get him back. I know we're tired, but we have to... have to..." Soul's head slipped from where he's been propping it up and his head hit the table.

They weren't listening anyway. They were too busy catching up on the sleep they had lost the previous night. Liz mumbled something and Patty was already blowing snot bubbles in her sleep. Blackstar looked at them all with triumphant bags under his eyes. He looked just as tired as they, but there was no way on earth that he would admit that.

"HA! Once again the great BLACKSTAR has outwitted you all by staying awake the longest! WHOOO!"

Yet he still had enough energy to shout that. "You can join Ox with that report for tomorrow, Blackstar. Next time try keeping your voice down." Stein said in a slow string of words, like a parent would do when talking to their toddler.

Blackstar's bubble burst and someone threw a book at his head. He turned around to glare, but apparently the culprit died in the past few seconds. With a huff the boy sat down. "I ain't doing no stupid essay." He mumbled and crossed his arms.

He turned his head to glare daggers at his teacher only to find him standing behind him like a looming statue in a graveyard. "AAAH!" Blackstar jumped about ten feet in the air. Every eye in class crescent moon turned to him and the sleeping students woke groggily.

"I heard that." Stein said in a creepily foreshadowing voice. The light reflected off his glasses and made his eyes entirely unable to see. "Just for that little comment you are to work _with_ Ox on your essay and if it isn't handed in tomorrow morning when that bell rings for the start of my class you can consider yourself as failing your year and needing to redo it."

With a creepy smile the older man left. Blackstar sulked. Ox looked even more depressed than their entire group put together. But he wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. He had already gotten an exam pad out and was getting a head start on his assignment. The blue haired boy, on the other hand, chose to inspect his muscles and see if they were big enough for his ego to accept.

Turns out they weren't.

"MAN THIS **SUCKS** I CAN'T WAIT 'TIL THIS PERIOD IS OVEER ALL I WANT TO DO IS GET TO PE! Sid totally thinks I'm the best!" This time it was Maka who hit him over the head with her _276_ paged handbook. Her head was still resting on her folded arm, but she didn't even have to look where she was hitting- her aim was impeccable... years of practice I guess.

"_Attention all students." _The intercoms in the school crackled to life- jerking all meisters from their respectable activity. "It has come to our attention that the streets of Death City have become too dangerous at night for anyone to cruise around. So henceforth there has been a curfew put in place,'

"All citizens of the city must be in their homes before 8 'O clock in the evening. Children are to be at home strictly after school. No exceptions allowed. Those who fail to comply with these new, but hopefully temporary, rules will be put in a holding cell until further judgement would be able to take hold of the situation."

The halls were as silent as a graveyard and the tension that hung overhead was even more dramatic than a funeral at one. All five friends looked at each other. Soul and Maka. Blackstar. Liz and Patty. Tsubaki was at home- too worn out to take on the day.

"Tonight will be our last search, guys, and then we'll have to call it and leave it to Lord Death." Liz said when all heads turned to her, head of the search party, for clarification on what to do.

Shoulders sagged and expressions changed to downcast.

"This is out last shot, guys, so we gotta aim high and hope we hit home!"

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"Shoot higher! We'll hit him then send him home crying to his mother!"

"You'll find out soon enough how well that plan works out! I don't even have a mother, you idiots!"

'_This is not good,'_ Death the Kid thought as he ducked back down. The bullet proof glass has proven to be less than projectile proof. Glass pieces were scattered around the tiny cubicle of the security room. Unconscious guards lay amongst bullet shells and blood and the alarm wouldn't stop its damn clutter!

It was nearing nine in the morning and still Kid had made no progress. It was supposed to be: get in and get out. That's it. Do the job quickly and quietly. That worked out perfectly for him, didn't it? So now, as he sat blocked in a small room- safety glass all around him and blinking panels showing the activity of all the prisoners of the prison, he knew that his plan ended up like yesterday's garbage...

More shots rang out and he was fed up with all of it! His shoulder hurt and he was bleeding and he was hurting. Shitehawk's execution would be executed soon and he still had NO idea where in the hell he was.

Kid sighed. He closed his eyes. This was easy. All he had to do was...

Kid stood up and shot at the guards wildly while making his way over to a flashing panel. They took cover and gave him a life saving gap. His hand slammed down onto a red button. You're _never_ supposed to press the red button.

The monitors overhead were like a movie and Kid was enjoying this particular film. Cell doors unlocked with a pneumatic hiss. Cranks clanked as they removed themselves from their holes and set free an entire prison of deathly, deadly, dangerous and deranged criminals.

How was that for an excellent plan?! Kid needed a distraction and now he had one.

"DAMN! Retreat! Call in more backup!"

"_The prisoners are escaping and the lockdown access panel is in the security room! No we can't... Systems are down; we have to activate it manually!"_

"You are all so pathetic! You can't even do anything for yourself you have to get permission for your superiors first!" Kid laughed cruelly. "I remember when I was like that, but then I grew a backbone and stopped being a baby!"

The wailing alarms didn't stop and he had to shout to be able to know for sure that the backup squad (who were crying for backup) could hear him. It pleased him greatly to know that he had such control over them all.

The door to the room buckled, but the computer chairs he piled there held their own. He had brigaded himself in the cramped room- the only way in now was through the window and he had that covered like a person had insurance covered...

Another bulled broke the 'shot-proof' window. So much for insurance coverage. The sharp shards cut through the air and crashed onto the floor. Kid stared and ducked. The panels were soon to be fried and smoke would cloud the room when that happened. He had to get out of there NOW!

He fired repressive shots and took cover beneath the window.

"Why so silent all of a sudden? Did babies wet their pants? Or did you go and cry to your mommies that you couldn't even beat a 15 year old?!"

...

Kid dared to take a peek over the edge of the broken glass. Bloodied bodies lay there. It looked like their necks were slashed... eew. He didn't do that. He only does bloodied holes. That was his talent.

A talent only recently discovered.

Anyway... at least one of his problems was now solved... only... now he had another problem at hand. Psychopathic murderers were running around. And the one he was looking for was amongst them. And he had to find him. Without being killed. While trying to escape from guards. That keep coming in like a dam that was set loose to flow freely. How hard could that be?

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To recap... he had murdered 10 people in one night. Blood was spilled accidentally when his finger slipped on the trigger. He couldn't help it. It was just so damn fun to pull the trigger! Shitehawk ran beside him, panting slightly.

He was dressed in the usual prison uniform and was shaved clean. His usual shaggy hair was cut down to a military grade hair cut. And he had made it clear earlier, when Kid had found him beating the snot out of a cop, that he despised it utterly!

Kid had chosen not to comment.

"Ho' ya find me, man?"

"I followed the trail of death, depression and damn near destruction... and I set every prisoner free. Good thing I checked the officer's lounge first. Figures you would want to take revenge."

"I like hittin' thin's."

Kid smiled awkwardly at him. "Just take care that you don't hit me. I would appreciate it if you didn't; I get beat up enough by Medusa already."

Shitehawk glanced at him with concern. Then grabbing Kid by the shoulders he pulled him into a storage closet in the main hall that lead to the exit. Freedom was just a few steps away, but the larger man just had to stop to tell him something... figures.

"I was't s'posed to tell ya this, Kid, but ya saved my lif'e an I think I owe ya... Medusa is a bitch. She ain't gonna stop wi't just beatin' tha crap outa' ya, she's gonna scar you fo' life by doin' something tha' will affect ya fo'ever."

He paused; hesitating over telling him what happens next.

"I wen't throu'gh tha same thin'g, ya know? Da bitch was the'e since tha beginnin' of time... she... she kill'ed my family. My mum and dad... she even kill'ed my baby gi'rl." His voice was choked, but no tears were found in sight.

"She was on'y five. On'y five when they pull'd her f'om my home, b'ought her to the ware'ouse and... and..." Shitehawk sounded incredibly close to tears, so Kid intervened before the first drops could fall.

"Calm yourself. We can't afford a mental breakdown so close to freedom-" Shitehawk grabbed Kid's collar. He pulled him closer. Kid's eyes widened. "Tha's jus' it. Ya' never 'ave free'om. Eve'n when ya think ya'll be free, ya won't! Ya'll always be trapp'ed with ya'self and yer thoughts,'

"Ya'll spend eve'y minute of yer remaining life thinkin' what ya could've done ta' help 'em... what ya could've done diffe'ently ta' save the'r lives..." Speaking softly and solemnly; Shitehawk slowly let go of the teen's shirt. Kid only waited.

The bulking man took a deep breath. "Don't tru'st da bitch. She's gonna fuck wit' ya' life an leave notin' behind but a b'oken shell of a pe'son ya once were." As those words sunk in they took leaving the prison, wails of alarms, shouting of prisoners and anguished cries of guards, behind.

The double doors up front were shattered and broken and the day light outside was eye-blinding when they stepped out. It was late afternoon. And once their eyes adjusted they could see criminals running through the forest and straight into Death City...

Shitehawk grinned, his previous sadness long gone. "At 'east we 'on't 'ave to wor'y 'bout tha' cops an'ymore." He laughed, Kid smirked, and they left. Their shoes left tracks in the ground that even the snow of the high mountain couldn't cover up fast enough.

Soon the bony trees surrounded them. White pure snow was slowly being stained with red that dripped from Kid's shoulder. He didn't mind. Healing was something he did better than anyone else and a small bullet wound like that had nothing on him! He would be better by tomorrow.

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By the time the two got back to the warehouse it was early dusk. Gang members crowded them. Some of them Kid had never even seen before. Others he would most likely have killed on site if it weren't for the masses.

But all of them knew what had happened to Shitehawk. And they were also aware of the stunt Kid had pulled with the armoury. So as such he was rewarded with both good natured shoulder punches and the not so good- arm dislocating shoulder punches.

Both were accepted with mild irritation and a hand twitch towards his gun.

Some hits were even landed on his injured shoulder. When one fat dude landed one exceptionally painful punch Kid pulled his pistol and aimed. This caused every gang member to pull their hidden weapons and point at each other.

Soon they found themselves in a standoff. No one was willing to put their guns away nor was anyone willing to get shot. Laughter interrupted their spiteful banter of bullets and barrels. "Looks like the little Kid lusts for more than _just _lead in his lungs... he craves other's blood as well..."

All guns snapped safety locks back on and were out of sight faster than a fat person can run to an all-you-can-eat-buffet. The crowd dispersed and Asura stalked through. His red gaze drilled into kid's golden one.

"If I didn't know any better I would've said that you had a death wish."

"If I didn't know any better I would've said that your breath doesn't smell like death, but we can all agree that if I said that then I would be wrong. So unless you have something meaningful to say to justify why you are breathing up all the clean air then I would suggest we all just leave... before I kill someone."

Asura laughed again. But there was no mirth in his chuckling. It was a mad noise that only a person as psychopathic as Asura could pull off.

"It is frightening how much arrogance you hold. Someone with your talent shouldn't squander it with something so idiotic such as sarcasm. You should nurture your anger and direct it at something much more meaningful that still contributes to society... such as killing all the idiots and corrupt police..."

Kid scoffed. "Why then haven't you done anything about the police? You've got enough ammo in the hideout to... to... destroy an entire city!" Kid named off the top of his head. What he said may have just been something to agitate Asura, but it was true as well. With the hoarded amount of grenades and LEDs there was enough explosive power in their illegal HQ to blow a city as big as theirs to high hell!

"Your tongue seems to serve no other purpose than to anger me... maybe I should cut it off then sow it back on." At a snap of his fingers two large men grabbed both Kid's scrawny arms and held him still.

Death the Kid's eyes grew in size. Asura smiled at the fear in the golden gaze. "Yes. That would be entertaining and a suitable punishment for your insolence." He looked at Gerecho. A stainless steel knife was placed in Asura's hand.

The steel gleamed. It was as sharp as a bitch's insults... strike that... it was as sharp as Medusa's insults and as deadly as a friend's betrayal. The incoming blade reassured a perfect and precise cut.

One of the men holding him in place opened his mouth. Kid wanted to bite down more than he wanted to breathe. All he could manage was to throw his head slightly from side to side. He tried protesting, but came out as pathetic noises and gurgled grunts.

"You see now what you are rewarded with?" Asura leaned in close. "The bond says nothing about pain infliction or physical harm." His breath was rotten and vile on his ear shell. "Funny how a bond so deadly can manipulate things. I consider you a _thing_, Kid." He whispered softly.

Pulling back he pressed the knife into Kid's mouth and added pressure to his eating muscle. Revelling in the sound that the boy made, Asura took his fearfully sweet time torturing the young shinigami.

"Well well well... looks like you're not going to leave anything for me to torture..." Asura's head snapped up. His enraged gaze met Medusa's then shifted over to her... company. His mood did a 180 at what he saw.

Suddenly his anger was forgotten. His mouth split into a disturbing grin. He looked at her then back at **his** victim... then back at her and _her_ victims. "I presume you know him?" Asura asked the four captives.

Kid looked confused. Whoever Asura was talking to were behind him so he had no idea who they were. And the knife was still in his mouth putting pressure on his tongue so he didn't even want to dare turn around...

"So shocked you can't even vocalise? Well, maybe Kid will recognise you..."

Asura pulled the knife from his mouth and the two large men spun him around. Kid was just as shocked as they. Bound before him were his friends... Soul, Maka, Liz and Patty... He was shocked, but not speechless. "What are you doing here?" He addressed Medusa. "What are they doing here?"

Asura cut in. "They are here to provide me some entertainment," His eyes danced up and down Kid's form, "And to give you what you deserve. Medusa, I'm afraid you won't be getting them until after I'm finished..."

"Meaning I'll never get them... or get them back piece by piece..." The woman seemed highly irritated by this and didn't try to mask her annoyance.

Kid watched them talk. Fear growing like a deformed child. His eyes grew larger. He turned his head to them. They watched him, paralyzed in their own awe. The group of friends had not known where Kid was, but they had never even had nightmares about him being here...

Liz and Patty looked more sad than angry.

Kid had no idea how to react. He never wanted his friends to see him like this. He never wanted them to know where he was and he never wanted them to ever, EVER witness the day when he had fallen so far... It made him feel self-conscious... it made him feel like a monster. Maybe he was a monster...

"It has been quite a long time since we've had the games..." Gang members started roaring in both protest and cheers. Shitehawk looked as pale as a sheet. Asura frowned. "SHUT UP!" he bellowed.

The one unfortunate soul who didn't quiet down fast enough was rewarded with a knife thrown into his trachea. "The gladiators who will be participating will be purely voluntary." He looked around expectantly. No one raised their arms or made any move to volunteer. "What a pity. Due to circumstances I will _choose_ our participants."

He pointed with one slender finger at each of the four prisoners in turn. "You... ah-you and you... mmmm aaand.., YOU!" Their nomination was predictable. "And the guest of honour would be our very own Kid."

Asura then turned around and walked away. The crowd cheered and roared once again. The two men gripped Kid tighter than was necessary. Bruises were sure to form. The pain didn't register at all. Kid was too lost in his maze-like confusion.

His friends were pulled up all too rudely as well by their lovely escorts and dragged down a dark hallway. Halfway down they were thrown down the stairs. It was dark and damp. The man laughed rudely.

"Put them in separate cages; Kid might just cause death accidentally, you know how he is with his urges for blood." The men all laughed. They pried them harshly off the ground and threw them in separate filthy cages- like animals.

Kid hit the wall hard and grunted as his shoulder was jarred. He heard the door slam and locked- along with similar others. His friends. They got his friends and intended to throw them all into some sort of game. And Kid suspected that these games wouldn't involve running around with pillows and hitting each other until the feathers flew.

Fire was lit and a soft glow over took the dank stone walls.

The alcoves were small and held torches that were evenly distributed along the walls. This underground storage place for prisoners was bigger than Kid had thought. The men were _still_ lighting the walls that swept down in both directions.

GREAT! He had just gotten out of one prison only to be dumped into another not too long after. How absolutely fantastic! He was like a frigin' prisoner of war with the way he was thrown from one prison to the other.

Kid curled up in the corner of his cage; hugging his knees close to his chest. He didn't want to face his friends. He didn't want to talk to them and he didn't even want to look at them. Seeing the look of betrayal stinging in their eyes would be too much to handle.

"Kid, what happened to you?" The voice came from the cage beside his. It was soft, sad and disappointed. It was to voice of Liz. Kid refused to move. He refused to answer. Curling tighter into himself the incredibly young reaper felt hot water leak down his cheeks.

How could he? How dare he betray his friends? They trusted him with something that no one could ever replace once broken... he betrayed their loyalty he betrayed their trust... and he betrayed their love for him.

Something like that can never be replaced. Never. Trust is a very _fragile_ thing. It's like an eraser... you can make mistakes and it can wipe them away, but with every mistake you make- trust becomes smaller and smaller... until it is gone.

The same with love. The same with loyalty.

"I thought you were stronger than this, Kid." Liz turned her back on her friend and descended and disappeared into the shadows of her cell. Kid's shoulders shook and he took a rattling breath and let the tears flow.

No noise came out, Kid tried hard to not show that he was crying. He can't let them see him being weak. Letting them know that he was crying would portray him as weak. _'I'm not weak. Don't cry, you coward! Suck it up and be a man! You chose this so you have to deal with it! If you can't even handle this you don't deserve to live.' _

With a final shuddering breath Kid stopped weeping. His shoulders stilled and his heaving breathing silenced. His eyes, red rimmed and slightly puffy from the salty tears, looked up at the dirty stone wall.

His eyes, cold and lifeless, stared out from beneath his fringe. Kid vowed that whatever these games were that he would fight and win. Even with a capped shoulder and broken love, he wouldn't fail, because his objection lied in the fate of if he wins or loses. In other words, losing isn't an option.

"_Men will always be mad, and those who think they can cure them are the maddest of all."_

_-Voltaire_

¤CM¤


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_Interviewer: "We have with us today a survivor of the Witch Prison break in, Rosemarie Porter, who will shed some light on the current situation. Miss. Porter, would you so kindly explain to us how it is you have survived the brutal attack, by the unknown assailant?" _

_Rosemarie: "Certainly. On the night of the assault, or rather Maniac Destruction Night (MDN), my squad was assigned to apprehend the suspect and bring him in for questioning. This goes without saying, but our attempts went horribly wrong. We were cornered in one of the lower levels of the prison and that is where our culprit took charge of the situation.'_

_ "Some of my soldiers were fatally wounded and one died of blood loss, I would have seen my end as well, were it not for my rescue by one of my other men. You see, the criminal shot me in the head, but miraculously missed any of my vital signs, and as you can clearly see the only loss that I have are one of my eyes.'_

_ "And as for the identity of our murderer it is less than unknown."_

_Interviewer: "In that case, the whole city and I would like our curiosity to be sated. We are all aware of why Death City is under curfew: the horrible crime increase and disappearance of minors, but we would all love to know who is responsible for all of the madness going on."_

_Rosemarie: "So far we have no further development of intelligence concerning the disappearances, but it is mildly known to us that were we to discover any more information that it is to be reported directly to Lord Death on his hotline 42-42-564; anyone who have seen any suspicious happenings in their surroundings should waste no time in reporting any of it,'_

_ "Lives may be saved. Patrols will be sent out to assure the safety of our citizens, so rest assured that you will be protected at night. Who our murderer is, will come as a shock to us all. Believe me when I say that even I was extremely confused when I first discovered who he was."_

_Interviewer: "You say _'he' _so is it safe to assume that the murderer is male?"_

_Rosemarie: "Yes, he is very much male. But before we get to that I would like to get back to the disappearances. Parents, please inform us if any of your children have gone missing so that we can get on it as soon as possible. We know that the kidnappers may have some affiliation with the prison break earlier this week and the man who escaped is _**extremely** _dangerous._

_ "None of us would like to see any harm come to the children so it would be most wise to notify the authorities of any missing minors as soon as possible." _

_Interviewer: "The emergency number that is toll free is 42-42-564, call because life is precious. We'll get back to the interview, right after these messages..."_

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_Interviewer:_ "And we're back here at _**KZN**_, _speaking with Rosemarie Porter, a survivor from the MDN, who had willingly come forth to help put an end to the mindless murders and shed some light on our increasingly dramatic situation. We are currently flooded with calls from all over Death City with the same question on lips: Who is responsible for the criminal rise and deaths of officers? And who is the notorious mad-murderer who seems to kill for fun?'_

_ "Miss. Porter, please, continue where we left off- right where you were about to reveal the identity of our culprit."_

_Rosemarie: "It has been known to me that by revealing the identity of said male would cause an increase of disruptions and upsets amongst you, the listener, but I strongly believe that it is for the greater good that we all be aware of whom to avoid and report instantly when seen.'_

_ "The increase of crime in the area can be pointed back to the escape of up to 2000 dangerous criminals that have been known to kill ruthlessly and out of sure vengeance. The one who is responsible for this is none other than Death the Kid, the young shinigami who was presumably to be Lord Death's successor..."_

_Interviewer: "Calls seem to increase and the lines are occupied to their capacity..."_

_Rosemarie: "We are aware that you may have questions, so I will answer some of the FAQ's. Yes, this is code Alfa red, I repeat, code Alfa red. Use of firearms is permitted for defence, but explosive weapons are strictly prohibited. One of the prisoners who have also escaped is allegedly the notorious gang leader Asura."_

_Interviewer: "We are now accepting calls, so listeners stay tuned and keep updated on the latest news, here on __**KZN! **__We are now speaking with a mister James Downey from downtown Death City. Good evening MisterDowney, what are your thoughts on the situation?"_

_James: "The f**k are you tryin' to pull?! I be here sittin' and eatin' my beans then I hear this s**t about another g** damn apocalypse rainin' down on us in a storm of bullets, explosives and crazy assed mother f***ers!" _

_Interviewer: "We are aware that you are frightened, as are we all, what with the rise of both Asura __**and**__ Death the Kid, but that is no excuse for your foul language. There are children listening."_

_James: "Me f***ing scared?! Are you on the piss, lady?! I'm fu***ing going into mother fu***ing suicide mode! Who the f**k would __**want**__ to live if they knew what was comin'?! ~~~_BANG BANG BANG~~~"

...

...

Interviewer: "_I think he... think he just shot himself..."_

_Rosemarie: "Now is not a time to panic. We need to stand together and get through this as a civilised society."_

_Interviewer: "This just in: Chaos downtown as hoarder's raid local armoury. Several people were shot and fatally wounded in the madness. The masses seem to be singing _'Hail the apocalypse' Police are moving in the subdue the-"

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There is a storm heading our way

All that's been will be gone

All your cities will sink into the ocean

You run away like cattle

But you cannot flee the battle

Wipe your ass; it's time to put on your war paint

Throw the spear

Let your hatred fly

Throw your spear

Let your hatred fly

The desert is my prophet

As our lives end by the minute

Stand up straight and fucking put on your war paint

Time to die

Hammer high

Name your price

And kneel

**Hail the Apocalypse**

All flesh is equal when burnt

We are forgiven

Forgive as we never shall learn

Get down. **Hail the Apocalypse!**

Once you built

Now you run away, the world's coming down

Leave your mark upon the graves of your stillborn

Just wrap it up in plastic

**Isn't killing things fantastic?**

Fuck your greed!

Come on and put on your war paint

Die

Hammer high

Name your price

And kneel

**Hail the Apocalypse**

All flesh is equal when burnt

We are forgiven

Forgive as we never shall learn

Get down, **Hail the Apocalypse!**

All the Lords I've sworn to obey

All the Lords I've sworn to obey

I take it back

All the Lords I've sworn to obey

All the Lords I've sworn to obey

I take it back

**Hail the Apocalypse**

All flesh is equal when burnt

We are forgiven

Forgive as we never shall learn

Get down, **Hail the apocalypse!**

#$% #$% #$% #$%

_Interviewer:_ _"-Seem to be experiencing... technical difficulties... system... hacked."_

_Rosemarie: "Don't pAniC... SaF__e__... hide...HOuSe... __C__O__d__E Alfa red-" _

#$% #$% #$% #$%

Dime todo lo que paso

No me di cuenta ni quien me pego

Todo da vueltas como un carrusel

Locura recorre todita mi piel

(X2):

Wake me up before I change again

Remind me of the story that I won't get

**Insane**

Tell me why it's always the same

Explain me the reason why I'm so much in

Pain

(X2):

Before I change again...

Remind me the story that I won't get

**Insane**

Before I change again...

Remind me the story that I won't get

**Insane**

(X2):

Voy perdiendo, perdiendo

Voy perdiendo, perdiendo

Voy perdiendo, perdiendo

Voy perdiendo, perdiendo

Voy perdiendo el suelo...

_**I'm becoming insane.**_

(X12):

Insane, insane, insane, insane, I'm

Becoming insane!

#$% #$% #$% #$%

_Mystery: "To all those out there who believe there is still hope, to those who dare have courage or those who dare be brave: Asura is coming for you, and there is nowhere to hide. End of transmission."_

_..._

_..._

Asura broke the radio with his gloved fist. That damn boy has ruined everything for him with that little stunt he pulled! But he has also given him an ample opportunity to instil fear into the public. That was where Arachnophobia had come in with her hacking skills. She always had a talent for planting bugs and finding back entrances.

All this frustration was putting him in a killing mood. He was so full of anger right now! And the increasing incompetence of his followers didn't help at all. If those idiots screwed up one more time the cops were sure to discover their location and it will all burn to hell:

Only after Kid and his comrades were imprisoned did they find a tracker locked around Shitehawk's ankle. If they were lucky the cops wouldn't show up here at all. They had removed the locator and dumped it in a bag and sent it on its merry way down a river.

Assuming the man had committed suicide the cops would stifle their search for him and continue with more important matters. Hopefully. Asura shook his hand in discomfort. A man rushed past him and started cleaning up all the shattered components.

"I'm growing increasingly pissed off. Inform the men that I have decided to move up the date of the games from Friday to tomorrow." The man nodded and hurried out. Alone once again Asura removed his glove and scratched at the scar.

It had been hurting recently and he had absolutely no idea why. It did nothing to help lessen his annoyance. Something the interviewer had said made the flames in his eyes burn brighter than ever.

Death the Kid. Successor to Lord Death. Kid, the small black haired brat that was sitting in his prison. Kid, the one with whom he had undergone the **Invariabilem pignus. **The very same who he was unable to kill and the exact same who he wanted nothing but _to_ kill.

Death the Kid- his brother.

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"_Parents are sometimes a bit of a disappointment to their children. They don't fulfil the promise of their early years."_

_-Anthony Powell_

¤CM¤


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

'_The crowd roared like thunder in the sky before a particularly nasty storm. Voices cheered shouted and screamed in pleasure of other's pain. These games could be described as nothing less than Spartan._

_And we have to listen to it. All of it. From the cries of pure agony to the cries of mercy. Worst of all... this isn't even the main event. It's like a little start up to get the crowd roaring and alive._

_From down here in the dark, damned damp cells we were bequeathed the honour to hear all of this. We were given the oh so noble tribute to know what was awaiting us._

_For a deathly long time no screams came from above our heads (None but for the crowd). It is in these moments that we're able to hear our own hearts throbbing and the noise of our quickened breath._

_Absolute peace of mind was nothing but a myth in the time between the silence and the slaughter. The only thing on your mind before the guard came in was: 'Am I next'. Or 'What exactly happened to the person before me?'_

_Thoughts like that haunted you 'til the very moment you were dragged from your cage, nails bloodied in your attempt to grasp the ground and resist the murderous fate that awaited you beyond those damned darkening stairs..._'

Soul Eater Evans looked up, the sound of a heavy metal door being swung open striking him out of his depressed thoughts. Two fat men came clomping down the metal flight of steps. Soul noted their forms. Nothing had changed from the last time they had came it here: they were still bloodied... even more so now.

It had progressed like that since this morning when they had been ruthlessly awoken with _ice_ cold water: Their crisp white shirts had progressively became more crimson. And the demented look in their eyes had grown passed to point of insanity- now it only held the stare of a cruel monster that bathed in the scent of blood.

They moved down the row. They pulled open a cage door. And the screams of pleas began. Their laughter sounded demonic against the honest pleas of mercy. "No no no no, please! I'm sorry! I'll do anything! Just don't do this to me!"

Soul watched as they dragged the impossibly gaunt frame of a female away from her prison. Her pleas fell on deaf ears, so she turned to him. "Help me! Help me please! I didn't do anything wrong! HELP!"

He turned his head away in shame. Earlier in the day he would have stood up and shouted at the guards. But his spirit was broken. The finality of the heavy door slamming shut brought horror to the silence.

Soul pulled his sleeve over the black bruise on his arm and looked down. Nobody said anything for fear of them being next.

'_The sick psycho's beat the shit out of anyone who dares call them fat. And they don't seem to give us, or anyone, any food. Who knows how long the other's have been down here with no food, fearing for their lives?! _

_I think that even the gladiators lived under better circumstances than us... Kid looks terrible. Not in a sense of physical appearance, but rather in the way he is acting. We had been looking for him for days but none of us had expected to see him here._

_I can't put my finger on it, but he's changed somehow. Maybe it's that tattoo... or the way he had that crazed look in his eye. Or maybe it is that he's losing himself. He's losing his humanity and forgetting who he was._

_I know he needs us, but I don't think he's going to admit it. I don't even know if we'll survive and be able to help him.'_

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It was extremely dark, but Kid knew he was not alone. The crowd around him screamed and shouted and roared for more blood. But he wasn't doing this for them. He was doing this for himself. _He _needed to survive and _he _needed to stay in this gang.

Growling to his left. Kid turned in time to miss getting bitten in the arm. He stumbled over himself and almost crashed to the dark water below. The audience cheered. He couldn't see a damn thing... but his opponent could.

His golden eyes tried in vain to adjust to the darkness. He gripped his weapon tighter. His bloodied hands hurt and the warm blood was slickening the sword in his hand. If he loosed his grip on his only lifeline that damn monster will tear him to pieces...

_Screeeech. Clank. ThUm__p__. SPLASH!_

Kid knew that sound. Excellent. The growling faded away. And splashing signalled the beast's retreat. Kid started running and took another right turn. He was met with a dead end. '_Damnit_'. He backtracked and took a left instead. As long as he didn't go back there... again...

"AAAHHHHHHHH!"

Kid pressed himself against the wall. The screams got louder and the growling grew more pronounced. _'Damnit! I had hoped the new guy would at least last longer.' _Kid needed time to find the exit.

The maze didn't make it easy.

The cheering grew to a deafening roar. Above him. They must be above him. Kid listened closely. He could hear the faint thumping of metal and shoes. Somehow the gang members were able to see them from above, but the _'contestants'_ were unable to see a damn thing.

Kid already knew he was in an arena with water that ran ankle deep. He knew that it was a maze of some sort. And he knew that there were flesh eating things looking for their next victim to tear apart like a Mc Donald's happy meal. Oh... and that there were no more than two victims in the- _maze-cage? - _At a time.

The shouting didn't let up. The sickening sound of tearing flesh turned Kid's stomach. '_That could've been me just a second ago! I need to focus!' _ A drop of blood plopped into the water.

Kid pressed his hands into the water to wash them again. The black substance burned and stung, but he took the pain like a business man would take money. It was refreshing to let the sticky life essence wash away... and not just _**his**_ life essence.

What happens in the arena stays in the arena.

Kid moved again, as silently as possible in the streets of water. Various turns were taken, but most of them were dead ends. "FUCK!" Kid slammed his sword against the wall, causing a small spark.

He slammed his fists into the wall and leaned his sweaty forehead against the cool concrete. His headache was considerably worse. From above the waist he was burning up. And below he was freezing. The water soaked through his shoes and made him sick.

Water ripples hit against his pants. Kid hadn't even fully turned around before he was knocked into the water. The sword slipped out of his hand and disappeared into the dark depths of the murky water.

Water splashed into his eyes. He struggled to keep his head above water, but the more he struggled the more water filled his lungs. His chest was burning and begging for oxygen. The animal above him snapped its sharp teeth at him, aiming for his throat. Kid hit at it and evaded the deadly fangs by mere inches every time the muzzle came too close for comfort.

The cheering of the crowd above was muffled by the water now seeping into his ears. Kid kept the animal's neck from lowering with his forearm while his other hand was probing the wetness, looking for his lifeline.

He was slowly drowning and the beast above him was awaiting its feast. Breathing became near impossible. Kid's scuffling became weaker and he struggled to keep his eyes open underwater.

The thing bit into his arm. "FUCK!" its teeth sunk into his flesh and held on tightly. Adrenaline flushed through Kid's body. His fingers connected with the animal's jaw. _HARD_. Forgetting about his weapon momentarily he kicked and hit the furry fuck standing on top of him.

The creature didn't relent its attack. Another hit to the jaw and a kick to the gut. Kid's shouting was gargled and obscured by the water, but the message was clear: "Get off me, bitch!" Blood gushed into the water and the cold was slowly replaced with lukewarm. Death the Kid felt light headed. The animal howled. More splashing was heard. More howling. The crowd roared. Kid gasped for air. Short intervals allowed him to get precious amounts of lifesaving H2O.

Fangs bit into his legs. Teeth delved into his shoulder- his bad shoulder. Assaults from all three sides. "AAAAAHHHH!" More red spilled into the dark. Kid's screams echoed off the maze walls. Gang members above cheered and laughed. Their eyes pierced into the darkness with ease.

Kid knew he was giving them enough entertainment to last them... a few days... but he won't allow them to enjoy it for long! His hand searched with new vigour. His fingers graced the hardened ground beneath the wet pool. He would get out! He would-

"AH!" The animal on his arm started pulling its head from side to side, trying to get the chunk of flesh free. Copper filled Kid's senses. His eyes widened. Before darkening.

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Below the arena everyone could hear their friend's cries of anguish. They could hear his spluttering and struggles of survival. They heard him, and they could do nothing about it. They sat there, hearing the crowd's muffled cheering and the horrifying howls of the monsters they would soon face as well.

"Come on, Kid. If you dare die on us now I'm going to kill you in the afterlife." Liz muttered to herself and tried to block out the shouts of pain. She didn't want to hear them. "But if he's already dead in the afterlife wouldn't that mean that he would be double dead? Hey, big sis, is there an afterlife for the afterlife? What would happen if you die when you're already dead? I wonder if-"

"Shut up! Nobody cares about you and your stupid musings! Will you just shut up! We're all about to die and all you can go on about is stupid afterlife! When we die, we're dead! There's nothing waiting for us! Just stop being stupid!"

"Liz, just chill, okay? It won't help anything if you scream at her, just ignore her."

"What would you know?! We weren't the ones who got beat up! It's because of your big mouth that you got beat to a pulp and now you want to get into another one! Are you just so stupid that you don't even learn out of your mistakes?! I think it's high time that you and Patty grow up and stop being so childish!" Liz crumbled to the floor, sobbing softly, covering her face with her hands, ashamed and scared.

Soul looked away and pulled his sleeve down again. He pulled his legs into himself and stayed quietly in his corner, averting his eyes completely. Patty looked at them both in turn, still standing in the middle of her cage.

Her eyes were wide and her mind was confused. Had she just caused that? "Guys-"

"We'll all be better off if you just vanished, Patty." Liz whispered almost to herself after her crying had calmed down a little. Patty took a hurt step back. "You don't mean that, big sis! You're just sad that Kid is getting hurt and that we aren't there to help him."

Liz stood up suddenly and charged at her sister, who stood her ground.

"Kid was hurt before all of this began! He was hurt since the day he got expelled. We weren't there for him _then_! He was hurt even when we _were_ there and we _still_ couldn't do anything to help him! Kid was hurt since before we met him! We weren't there to help him _then_! What are we supposed to do?! This didn't just happen over night!'

"This happened to Kid as a result of years of abuse! Not physical, but emotional and mental abuse! His father ignored him! He treated Kid like he was an accident! Like he wasn't meant to be born! Physical abuse has scars that heal, but metal abuse- that pain you will forever feel, because emotional hurt cuts you where no salve or Band-Aid can be placed and fixed with a kiss!"

Liz moved back to her seat on the wooden bench. Patty stared. Water dripped down the stone walls. That was the only sound they heard. Even the crowd seemed to be silent. "Guys, I think something's wrong. It's been quiet up there for a while now." Maka put in timidly from the side.

Soul lifted his head. Together they listened. Stillness...

_Screeuch... clank... clunk...clank... clunk... thunk_

Soul whipped his head to the side. The two guards were back. They were laughing and nudging each other. They saw Soul looking. The one male jabbed the other with his elbow. Now they both stared at him. They grinned and stepped closer.

Soul tried not looking frightened, but his tightening muscles probably gave him away. They started laughing again. They unlocked his cage and the fatter of the two stepped in. Maka, Liz and patty stared in horror and held their breath. Maka resisted the urge to shout, but that was slowly failing her.

A fatty fist lifted Soul off the floor by the collar of his dirtied and torn shirt. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. The man's fist lifted heavily. Soul pulled in on himself.

"Leave him alone!"

Soul's eyes snapped open. The man's head whizzed around. Maka stood her ground, fists at her side, and an angry red on her cheeks. The fat man snarled, the second man then started laughing. Enraged the larger man punched Soul in the gut and let him fall to the floor.

"Who are _you _laughing at?!" The man all but yelled and stepped up to his comrade. Soul grunted on the floor and gripped his sore abdomen while curling in on himself. Maka's hands covered her mouth and she fell to her knees against the bars of her cell across from them.

"Nothing, just get them."

Grudgingly they slapped hand cuffs on _all_ of them and pushed them up the stairs. Soul gave no fight. Liz was tight lipped. Maka was shocked, angry and near hysterics. As for Patty... let's just say that she wasn't her usual happy self. They were lead along a short corridor before they were shoved down two small steps.

They landed in wetness. It was dark all around. The door behind then slammed shut. And they were stuck, struggling in a pile of bodies and broken spirits, with their wrists being chaffed by the cuffs. Soul was the first to notice the low hum of chatter above their head. And Patty was the one to proclaim that she heard feet above her head.

They struggled out of the small pile, legs untangling painfully and hair being pulled occasionally like they were in a preschool playground pulverisation session. They stood in the darkness, completely immobilized and disoriented. They couldn't see, their hands were tied and Soul could swear he heard soft shouting in the distance.

All their clothes were slightly wet and chilling them. Involuntarily they huddled together for warmth- their backs pressing together in a miniature back-to-back shield. Their feet, bare and hurting, were bruised and undeniably freezing. After a moment of terrifying silence Maka took charge and spoke; _slightly_ frightened.

"I say we choose a direction and go that way... do any of you know how to remove cuffs?"

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Death the Kid felt sick. He felt sick that he hadn't done this before. He felt sick of all the stuff he had to put up with. And he felt sick in a sense of wickedness. His gloved hand tightened around the hilt. His shoulders rose and fell heavily as he slowly regained his breathing. Blood splotches dotted his face, like a benevolent painter who finally finished with his final art.

The water that swallowed at his ankles was lukewarm and thicker than H2O was supposed to be. The mutilated remains of mutts lay at his feet, as still as a grave. Lifeless animal eyes gleamed at him. Kid merely snarled. Those stupid _things_ had ripped into his flesh and had nearly caused him to drown, so screw the people who believe these animals didn't deserve death.

Because heaven alone knows they did!

These beasts from hell deserved a much slower and much more painful death than he had handed them. They should be grateful he didn't prolong their suffering... In his view these monsters had gotten a much more merciful death than they would have gotten at the hands of Asura.

The sword in his hand trembled under the pressure; blood dripped down from his wound and joined the vermillion of his foes. Small scarlet drops dripped into the darkness with a near silent _plop_. The scent of crimson wallowed in the air and was dampened by the water path. One problem was removed, but many still remained. The maze. The gang. His friends...

His father...

The weapon nearly slipped from his hand, not from the slippery blood soaked gloves, but from pure misery and loss of what to do...

The scar...

Kid's knees felt weak. And he was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally. The only thing he desired the most in the world right now... would be to take it all back and start again. To get a second chance. And to do it all. Over. Again.

He dropped to his knees, letting the water soak his pants completely. Arms, emaciated and bloodied, dangled to his sides, sword still griped between his bony fingers. Lungs struggled to get in the needed amount of air and his mouth hung open lazily as he attempted to pull in the much needed oxygen.

Kid was faintly aware of water shifting around him and ripples hitting his lower back. Something must be heading his way. Tired eyes turned ever so slowly in his skull to inspect the approaching danger. Slim black brows knotted together.

It was too dark to see anything. Kid heard the clinking and rattling of chains. Were they sending in different animals? Was Asura sending in a new wave of monsters with sharper teeth, faster legs and madder eyes? Were these dead creatures at his feet just the beginning of a monstrous death?

When would it end? When will this madness stop and just leave him be? Kid snarled. He was sick of all this bullshit! His fingers tightened and he shot up. His weak legs rushed forward. His tired lungs and battered arms tightened for the strike. Red eyes flashed in Kid's mind.

Monsters. Animals. Creatures. Beasts. Must kill.

Blind fury caused Kid to fall to his knees and hack away at the figure in front of him. He stroke and chopped and cut and stabbed until the familiar tang of blood could be tasted on his tongue. Even after the figure's thrashing had long gone silent along with its screams of horror, pain and _agony_ did Kid still not stop.

Blinded, was he, with his inner turmoil and utter need to _survive_ that he took no notice of the crowd cheering above or the crying below. Hot salt dripped from his eyes. Fear consumed him. He wasn't crying out of any particular emotion. Actually, Kid really had no idea why the warm water chose to walk trails down his smooth skin.

He had no idea why his hand wouldn't stop swinging and he had absolutely no idea why he was enjoying the sucking noise the body below him made every time the steel was removed from the mashed-turned body.

A warm hand was placed on his shoulder. Kid jerked, the weapon disappearing into the water. Arms captured him and restrained him. Kid thrashed wildly. Screaming escaped his mouth. "No! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Get off me you monsters! NO!" His arms were pinned to his side and his feet were denied of their need to push up.

Kid threw his head back. "NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

His mind was clouded, confused and cornered. He was trapped and he had nowhere to go. There was no one to help him and he was scarred. Scarred and all alone in a dark place with no light to guide him. His shoulders slumped and all the fight left his body. His lungs were tired of crying. They were tired of falling on deaf ears and receiving no answer.

Kid's body was beaten, bruised and broken. And his soul was completely consumed with inner turmoil. He was tired of resisting...so he just- _gave up_. Wheezing sobs rattled his thin frame. _'Why am I crying?!'_

Sudden light flooded his pupils and made Kid cringe back. Eyes closing and head thrashing to the side to shield the beams from his eyes. Noise pooled all around him and made his ears ring. The pressure on his shoulders intensified and made him cry out. His golden eyes fluttered timidly and were greeted with light that was slightly less attacking.

Oh no.

Kid's gaze rested on the body laying in the water, slowly soaking it a red darker than black. Red lifeless eyes stared up at him. Death the Kid threw his head to the side and heaved. His stomach had no contents. He dry heaved until he was sure he would barf out his lungs.

The hands around his shoulders held him up and were practically the only thing keeping him from tumbling into the water. His body felt limp and boneless. Those steadying hands roughly pulled him up. He heard voices entering his ear, but the words didn't register.

He couldn't stop staring at the viciously mutilated body. Those warm _warm_ hands shook his shoulders and tried to ground him. Tried to bring him back. Kid couldn't find it in himself to let them.

Suddenly those comforting hands were ripped from his shoulders. Shouts followed. Kid fell to his knees. Water rocketed up. Blood, black and transparent spilled onto his face. His hand fell at his sides. Rushing to him were masses of people who clapped him on the shoulder with shouts of glee and congratulations.

He only stared with dull, _**glassy**_ eyes at what he had done.

Feeling sick and wanting to heave again Kid closed his eyes. Then opened them. He had to face what he had done. He can't avoid it and he can't ignore it. He did this. He caused this and he was the reason for all this blood. So much blood.

No. No no no! Oh g**.

Hands gripped him under his armpits. Kid stared at the mutilated corpse as he was slowly lifted and removed from the arena by the cheering men and women. Slowly dispersing and slowly vanishing. Kid saw the glimpse of those bloody beasts with he fangs and claws crawl around the corner and close in on the corpse.

They were still present. And they were still hungry.

Rage filled Kid, but couldn't work its way past his frozen shock. Tendrils of ice, so cold and paralyzing, seeped into his soiled veins. He had murdered his friend. And they congratulated him for doing so.

Soul Eater Evans, with those monster-resembling red eyes, was ripped to pieces by his friend. And it was all his monstrous maddening fault. Kid was pulled through huge stone pillars and shoulder carried by the crowd up the stairs. Shitehawk stood with his arms crossed and leaning against a pillar and stared at the cheering crowd. Forlorn was etched onto his face.

Step one to breaking Kid's spirit was complete. And he knew that this was only the beginning. He knew what would happen to his remaining friends. It wasn't a burden that he wanted to carry. Shitehawk shook his head and pushed off; stepping up the cold stairs. The look Kid's friends had when those lights turned on and they saw who it was who slaughtered their friend...

The forgiveness they had in their eyes and the helping hands they had reached out to him... None of this was seen by Kid. And he didn't have the chance to see them either. Damn Asura and his demonic, monstrous ways of mind- f****** with everyone.

They were all so young... and now they were going to land in the hands of Medusa. These steps seemed to weigh more on his lean legs. They all went through it. Every gang member. Some were changed permanently. Some so broken they had lost the will to live... others had given themselves up to madness.

Some were even driven to suicide.

Shitehawk hoped Kid wasn't one of them. He hoped that Kid was stronger. And, despite himself, he hoped Kid _would_ take over leadership of this gang. Hopefully then... things would change.

For better, or for worse.

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Frozen to the spot and staring at the floor. Filth and disgusting stuff stuck there like a fan girl on Justin Bieber's ass. Dark eyes blinked. Then shifted. It now stared to the object lying on the table and found an internal struggle whether or not to do it.

Eyes shifted _again_ over to the fridge. "To be or not to be." Black Star's stomach growled. "To be." He decided. He bounced up and ran over to the ice box. Only to be grabbed by the shirt and be pulled down onto his bum harshly. "OW!"

"Not to be." Ox said frustrated, and clamped his hand around his pen. "This is the seventh time you tried the same trick and I am still not falling for it. It's already bad enough that I have to work in your apartment-" Ox looked around at the abandoned take out trays and scattered pieces of food and... other things...

"-But now I have to put up with your laziness as well."

"The GREAT BLACK STAR is NEVER lazy! He just needs fuel to continue with his awesomeness!" Ox picked up the paper the other male has been working on for over an hour and found himself growing an angry tic on his forehead. In the corner there was a crudely drawn picture of him with an arrow pointing the words 'StUPid dumb dumb'.

For the sake of both their survival Ox ignored it and moved on to what Black Star had written. He felt his eye twitch annoyingly. "You call this awesomeness: _**'Since the beginning of the planet and maybe the universe as well, everyone was useless and didn't know what to do. But then came THE GREAT BLACK STAR to save them from stupidness. So when they saw him they all died, because his awesomeness was too much for them to take. Then THE GREAT BLACKSTAR went on a mission to save them.**_

_**But there were zombies who wanted to stop him. And there were also stupid scientists who don't know what's best for THE GREAT BLACK STAR. But THE GREAT BLACK STAR stopped the dumb professor with his MIGHTY POWERS OF AWESOMENESS and they all lived happily ever after. HASHTAG the end.'**__"_

Black Star had his chest puffed up and looked mighty proud of himself. Ox wanted to slap his forehead. "Do you even remember what professor Stein told us to write the essay about?"

"Nope. But that doesn't matter! When he sees this essay he'll be shocked by the beauty of it and let me sleep in the class for the rest of the year!" Ox face palmed.

'_He'll be shocked alright.' _

"Maybe you _do_ need food to get your brain working again." Black Star was up and gone in a second with a loud proclamation of 'YAHOO!'. "Just make sure you eat _a lot_." Ox shook his head and went back to work. He still had a lot of words to finish before he could recheck his work.

He needed this to be flawless. He didn't want to fail the course and he didn't want to come in second- right behind Maka. The pen froze mid-scribble. He just realized something. Ox's face paled. "Black Star!"He shouted and stood up- dropping the pen to the table and sending the chair to the floor. "If you eat the last pudding cup you're dead!"

By the time he got in the kitchen Black Star already had a spoon in his mouth and a half eaten chocolate cup in his hand. They stood frozen. The spoon dangled on Black Star's lip, fell out and clattered to the ground.

Ox jumped into action and tackled the blue haired boy to the floor.

Pudding splashed onto the wall, joining the various other stains that had been accumulated there over the course of their working session...

Tsubaki would be having a hard time cleaning _that _out of the wall.

"I told you that was _my _pudding cup!"

"Someone as great as I don't have to listen to ANYONE!"

"Listen to my fist!"

"Fists can't talk, STUPID! I, THE GREAT BLACK-"

_**WHACK**_!

That had been a long time coming. Now the great Black Star, had a great black eye. Ox stood victoriously above the boy with a flashing smile. Black Star lifted his foot. Ox went crossed-eye. He doubled over- hands covering his _**tools**_. He crumbled to the floor. "NOBODY HITS THE GREAT BLACK STAR AND GETS AWAY WITH IT!"

So now the pair lay on the kitchen floor, covering an eye ball... and another type of ball... tending to the pain of their less than friendly scuttle. "You should put some ice onto that." Came a female voice, sometime later.

Tsubaki shook her head in disapproval. She had been gone for less than ten minutes to run to the grocery store and back. Ox looked up at her pleadingly. She couldn't help but smile. She reached into the plastic bag and removed a carton of pudding cups.

"There are only four in a box and there are three of us." The two boys looked at each other again and a new fire lit in their eyes.

Damn it.

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'_Visions born of fear give birth to our failing. Visions born of hope give birth to our success. What is possible lives within us, and it only remains for us to discover it.'_

_-Terry Brooks_

¤CM¤


End file.
